


Perseus the God Killer

by KnightOfRosalina



Category: Multi-Fandom, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Dark!Percy, Don’t know pairings yet but don’t hound me about it pls, F/F, F/M, Fight scenes are a little meh but I’m working on it, Fugitives Of Olympus AU, I Love You All, I really want you guys to enjoy this, Like really Dark™️ my dudes, M/M, Multi, No Beta, This Is Gonna Be LOOOOONG, Torture, Triggering material later on, anyway, enjoy, enough tags, so stick around, sue me, youre welcome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-05-31 01:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15109142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightOfRosalina/pseuds/KnightOfRosalina
Summary: /AU/ The gods have ruled for millions of years with an iron fist and no rules to prevent them from doing what they wish. For some, that has been fine. But for Perseus Jackson, those days are going to end, be it at his hands or another’s. Dark!Percy /ALL RIGHTS TO RICK RIORDAN I DONT OWN ANYTHING BUT THE PLOT/





	1. The Forgotten Hero

**Author's Note:**

> First Chapter, woo woooo. A little rough and fast paced, but good I think. Please enjoy!

The sun was too bright for a day like this. I definitely stood out with my dark ensemble of clothes, but even in the heat of mid-July weather I felt cold chills run down my spine.

“We need to move. I can sense them to our south.” The gruff voice of my companion sounded behind me. “I can too.” I said softly, looking at the man out the corner of my eye.

His ebony hair had grown to his shoulder, his face covered in stubble, his eyes wild and untamed like the sea. “Perce…”

His face snapped to look at me, a deep scowl etched onto tan skin. “We can’t run forever.” I tried to keep my sorrow out of the words, but I couldn’t hide from him.

“We don’t need to. Our destination is close, I can feel it.” He grasped the circlet on his wrist, a move he had been doing on our journey a lot. It was a simple golden chain with an amethyst gem implanted in the center, but the way he treated it, I knew there was a deeper meaning.

“Okay.” I said, picking up my bag, turning to continue following him.

We began our final leg of the journey, an adventure that took months of traveling across the country, solely to throw off the many gods following us. I had suggested just shadow travelling to our destination, of which I was still unfamiliar, but he had turned it down. “The divine energy will just lead them to us.” He had said. I was fairly certain he was right, but it didn’t stop my skepticism as we jogged through the humid air.

I looked at our surroundings, trying to piece together our location by landscape. We were on a small trail, surrounded by towering trees in every direction. The sky was blue, with not a cloud in sight, the sun beating down on us like a wet blanket on our necks.

“The trees block the eyes of the sky gods.” At first, I had been confused by what he said. The only sky god I knew of was Zeus, the king of Olympus which was far behind us now. As we travelled, however, I understood. Minor sky gods like Aeolus and his children, Zeus himself watching from Olympus, even Apollo and Artemis in their chariots.

“Why, if that, do we not stray from the path? Wouldn’t we be able to be easily tracked by Hermes?” I had asked, to only receive a knowing smirk, the closest thing to a smile he gave me. “Hermes could try and stop us.”

Though I knew his power, all of the amazing and epic things he has done, I didn’t think taking on an Olympian would be a great idea. Nevertheless, if it did come down to a fight, I was more then sure we could win.

“We are here.” I looked away from my surroundings. I eyed the small hut in front of us, doubt filling my mind. “This is what we came for?” He just walked on, opening the door flap and entering with me following shortly after. The spread of a normal home was before me, a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and living room.

“What is it we are looking for?” I asked, looking at the hut’s innards. He moved deeper into the foreign home, dropping his supplies on the floor, then his sleeping bag, then, to my surprise, he dropped his sword. The curious thing, what I’ve noticed for the past couple of months, was that he never kept the sword in it's magically small form: a pen. The once glowing bronze was dull, lifeless, the thrum of the sea had left it. So many stories surrounding it, the famed Anaklusmos that had slayed monsters, Titans, Giants, and even gods. Now, it was just a relic that the old hero kept in a sheath at his hip, never drawing it for a fight, preferring to fight with his bare hands like a modern day Heracles.

“We are here to wait.” He said simply, sinking into a chair in the living room, muscles relaxing in their new safe haven. “For what?” I pondered aloud, hoping for an answer unlike most of his cryptic ones. “A friend.”

Less cryptic than most. If you would hear that three years ago, it would’ve been more vague. Nowadays, anyone associating with the likes of us were considered fugitives of Olympus, and condemned to death by incineration if they didn’t give information.

We learned that the hard way after trusting an innkeeper a month back, only to be found by Eurus, God of the East Wind. It had been our first fight with a god, though minor, and I was outshined by him in every way.

By the time my sword was drawn, he had already ripped off the god’s wing and began beating him with it. The innkeeper faced similar punishments for his betrayal, his jaw had been fully ripped off his face as a sign to those who talk when they shouldn’t. Now, it was the brink of a secret civil war, those who obey the gods out of fear and loyalty, against those who fear us.

“You’re the only one who understands. The road we take does not leave room for such pleasantries as morals.”

That had been his reasoning for taking me. I admit, at first the thought of murdering innocent people, people who only wanted to do the will of the gods, made me falter. Until I heard his story, the reasoning behind his initial disappearance and the reason he lived as a fugitive.

“You don’t have many friends.” I said, leaning against the wall passively. “True.” He said, shrugging honestly. “But I do have some, ones that I can count on. That’s what matters.” I nodded in understanding, unclipping my sword and leaning her against the wall.

A gift, her name was mine to give but I had yet to decide a suitable one. She was Stygian Iron, like my previous sword, but the soul sucking power the metal held was now palpable, infusing a shining ruby at it's hilt with powerful energy that I didn’t understand how to use.

“It’ll come to use later on, just wait son of Hades.” The mysterious voice had whispered.

I hadn’t heard the voice in a week or two, the only secret I kept from my companion. I knew if he learned of it, he would kill me. As useful as I was, if he thought for a second I was in communication with any god he wouldn’t hesitate to sever that connection brutally and painfully. Not that I knew who was speaking with me, or had control over when we spoke.

“Does your friend have a name?” He smirked again, as if he had all the knowledge in the world at his fingertips. “They have many.” That wasn’t helpful, though I suppose I would find out soon enough.

He stood, stripping his shirt from his body, much to my embarrassment. Though I had lost my previous feelings for him, there was no way any sane person could deny he had the body of a god. His once slim and lithe body was built now, not for swimming or speed, but brutal strength. His large pectorals flexed, his abdomen less a six-pack, almost one large muscle, wide and rock hard. His arms like tree trunks, bulging biceps that could break grown men in half.

When I had commented on his new form, he had brushed it off easily. “I’ve seen men twice as large as me go twice as fast as me when I was built for speed. Speed is good for small prey, not predators.” He spoke like that often, alluring to his goal that was just out of reach. Of course, I knew what the end of this quest led to.

He walked into the bedroom, grabbing a new shirt that he slipped on. “You have clothes here?” I asked. “It is my safe house. I have everything I need here.” He sat back in the chair. That made sense, I silently berate myself for not knowing sooner. Ever since the trouble at the inn, we had stayed strictly in safe houses scattered across the country.

“So this friend knows your safe house locations?” I was surprised to see this level of trust from him, I was under the belief that only me and him had that knowledge.

“They helped build them.” That was even more surprising. “Wait, what?” A knock sounded on the front wall, the door flap opened up to reveal… something.

It was like a shadow, but dim, more translucent, and it’s eyes were a dull purple that swirled and swarmed like bees beneath a blanket. I tried to look into its eyes, onyx on purple. They locked eyes with me, and I was transported into a different world.

The area around me faded back and filled with mist, growing cold. “Son of Hades. Son of Maria di Angelo. Savior of the House of Hades.” The booming voice, like thunder and cement blocks, smashing against my ears.

“What. Do. You. Dream?”

My mind burned with the image before me. An eldritch beast, impossibly large yet ever so small it was nearly invisible, power flowing in wave after wave, hitting me with physical force. Thousands of blinding purple eyes, all fixed on me, filling my mind with images of every dream I’ve ever had, every nightmare, every sleeping memory of Tartarus. I tried to scream, but could not open my mouth.

In an instant it was all gone, everything back to normal, the hut, the shadow, all normal. “Nico.” I turned to my companion, who had stood from his chair. “This is Ctoggha. He’s a god, but not of any pantheon you know.” I stared at the shadow, the image of what I could only assume was it’s true form stuck in my mind’s eyes.

“He’s a sort of dream demon, preys on the good dreams of man. He’s part of a race of Earth based gods called the Great Old Ones.” The shadow moved to him, not walking, gliding through air like a spirit. “It is good to see you again my friend.” He said, hugging the shadow. “It is good to see you too, Perseus.”

The shadow, Ctoggha, sounded like he was out of breath from a very long run, his voice raspy and dry. “How have you been?” Perseus asked. “Struggling. The Great Old Ones are moving in their sleep, causing chaos where they lie. It is hard to keep order.” I stayed silent as they spoke, wanting to learn more about this so-called ‘dream demon’.

“Well, I have good news then.” Perseus drew back from the hug, a genuine smile plastered on his face when he looked at Ctoggha. “And what is that, Perseus?” I watched, unmoving, unable to fully comprehend, as my companion lifted a foot long blade into the air and plunged it straight into the shadow’s back, spilling violet blood across the padded ground.

Ctoggha gasped loudly, falling against Perseus who soothes him with small whispers. “It’ll be alright, it’s ok friend. I’ve got you, you don’t need to worry about the responsibility anymore.” He pattes the shadow, twisting the blade as he did. Ctoggha looked up at him, dull eyes becoming dimmer. “Thank… you…” Perseus pushes the blade further in, stopping the god from moving anymore. “You’re welcome, my friend.”

I was paralyzed, not understanding that he had killed a god, a powerful one at that, and all he got was thanks. “Nico, come. We have much work to do while the body is fresh.” Perseus said, dropping said body on the kitchen table with a thud.

“Great Old Ones are a rare species, extremely powerful. It is not easy at all to kill one” He spoke softly as he brought forward selective instruments of medical use to the table. “However, me and Ctoggha go way back. He wanted to die, go to where they go when they die, so I granted his wish. And in return, my vengeance can become fruitful.” I watched as he sawed into the shadow, pulling apart it's body with little effort.

“The Heart of a Great Old One. We can check that off the list, that’s for sure.” He presented his prize before me: a pulsing, black orb with veins and slimy yet dry texture. “That’s one out of five, Nico. Four more stops until I can take my revenge against those who have taken away that which I love.”

I stared, taking in the whole situation as it was. “You’re creating a weapon. One to kill… gods.” Once again, I saw the forgotten hero smile.

“That’s right. And once I have it, I’m going to slaughter every last one of them, until all the gods fear my name and the power I hold.”


	2. The Vengeful Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with a few uninvited guests...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second Chapter, how fun is this? Last one today I promise, just wanna get you guys started on the storyline and set up a good bit of tension

The day started like any other, since the recent events last week.

I woke up, put on my clothes, grabbed my sword and hunted breakfast. Perseus was always gone by the time I was up, chasing leads on our next target. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, who it was, but I could tell it would not be as simple as the last one.

Last week, Perseus had killed a Great Old One for his heart, a mercy kill that brought us one step closer to the weapon we seek. I glanced at the chest at the center of our safe house, covered in burning red runes. The god’s heart, Ctoggha. His body had been burned on a pyre, his ashes spread across the river nearby. Perseus said that was what he would have wanted, to be returned to where his master lay, asleep.

“The master of a god?” I had questioned, intrigued. “He himself is a Great Old One, but not one we want to mess around with. We have two weeks of rest before we move again, otherwise his eyes will be upon us.” I didn't press further. I still remember the Great Old One’s true form, so horribly impossible to fathom that I couldn’t think on it for too long. At night my dreams were peaceful, maybe the effect of killing a dream demon, but I do not know.

I stepped outside the kitchen where our meal cooked, sitting in front of the chest. The runes were drawn before we put the heart in, powerful magic to keep out unwanted persons or gods. I’ve never witnessed Perseus using any form of magic, but he keeps his secrets, as do I.

‘Nico.’ I shuddered, feeling the mysterious presence enter the room as it spoke. Speaking of secrets we kept. ‘The heart, Nico. You must destroy it.’

“No.” I grunted, standing and trying to move away, only to be held in place by some mystical force. ‘Do as I say, boy!’ The voice screamed in my mind, like needles stabbing every neuron.

I was sat back on the ground, facing the chest. ‘Open it.’

“No!” I struggled against the force it had over me. ‘You are the chosen one of my kind! You will do as we wish! Open the chest, destroy the heart, kill Perseus Jackson!’

“NO!” The hut shook, the ground cracking and spilling rubble into it. I let out a guttural scream, letting loose my divine power to fight off the voice. Shadows converged on me, seeping into my body and covering me in inky blackness. Skeletal hands clawed through the ground, clutching at anything they could grab and pulling it back down with them.

I felt the presence leave, but I couldn’t stop the flood of power leaving me. I saw the walls around me collapse, the furniture get destroyed as zombies and skeletons rose from the ground, attacking each other.

“Nico!” I heard Perseus, but could not answer, the pain of so much power being used started taking a serious toll. I collapsed to the floor, the liquid shadows sliding off of me and back into the ground where they came from.

My head was spinning, and I felt like I was about to throw up, when Perseus spoke in a hushed whisper. “Dychwelyd.”

xxΨωΩωΨxx

I didn't understand the language he spoke, but whatever it was must have caused me to black out, because when I opened my eyes again it was mid afternoon, the sun high above my head.

“Good afternoon.” I flinched at his tone, turning to Perseus in fear. He sat in a large chair, in the middle of what would have been the living room, sharpening what I could only describe as a god tier weapon.

Just looking at it, I could see the ancient and unfathomable power it held beneath its physical form. An axe, with a gold encrusted Oak pommel and a steel blade, with about two inches stabbing out the other side of the wood. It looked sharp enough to cut through diamond, the very air at it's thin edge parting gracefully. Magic sigils were carved right before the edge, symbols I hadn’t seen before but knew they did something malevolent.

I noticed the sparkling amethyst gem at the top of the pommel, the one that had been on his circlet which was now missing. It pulsed with energy, like a switch had been magically flipped inside of it. The weapon was a work of beauty, but there were several things uncanny about it.

The weapon was not Greek in the slightest, to refined and gorgeous for bloody combat. The runes, also, were not Greek, or Roman for that matter. The presence of a weapon in Perseus’ hand was, as well, odd, given he preferred not to fight with any weapon at all, and if he did I was sure he would use Anaklusmos. But the most disturbing part of the axe, was a diagonal cut down the blade’s side. The weapon was perfect, save that scar, which is what scared me. May it be the because Perseus made that crack, or someone else, it was almost an abomination, a sore in the eyes of God.

“We need to discuss what happened earlier.” He dragged the whetstone across the blade, slicing off part of the stone in the process. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the ornate axe, even when I tried. “Ah. I see you notice her.” Another scraping squeal of the whetstone, being carved away as it sharpened the impossibly sharp blade.

“The Leviathan Axe. Used by a god, their symbol of power almost. I’ve modified it, of course, to withstand the power of the stone.” I watched the gem glow, breathing a mysterious power, before dimming again. Another scrape. “Nico, you destroyed my favorite safe house. You left the heart defenseless. Most importantly, you used divine energy, and have attracted a god.”

My eyes snapped to his, I sucked in a gasp of air. He was smiling lightly, but his sea green eyes spoke volumes. He was furious, filled with rage at the mistake I had made. I lowered my head in shame, so angry at myself for letting the mysterious voice get to me like it had.

“But enough of that. We have no time for this now, but we will talk later.” His tone held no room for argument, so I just nodded dumbly. He stood from his chair, setting the Leviathan Axe on the seat.

“Get your sword. I might need help on this one.” That wasn’t good. Perseus never needed help with anything, not even with a minor god, which only meant one thing.

“Which one is coming.” Perseus shed his shirt, stretching his muscles and cracking his neck. “Not sure yet. No one too horrible, hopefully.” He grabbed the Leviathan Axe, taking a couple test swings, which made the air ripple with energy and force. I unsheathed my unnamed sword, swinging her dark blade through the air. It had been a while since I had to actually fight, with monsters and animals the kill was about surviving. This fight would be more than survival, it would be a statement to the other Olympians that we were not to be messed with.

“They come.” Perseus looked to the distance, eyes narrowing slightly. “They?”

“Yes, it seems they don’t underestimate us. They’ve sent two of their gods, to fight us.” The thought of having two Olympian gods sent to kill me wasn’t an enjoyable thought, but it wasn’t bad either. They need two of their most powerful gods to try and kill us.

That did put a small smile on my face, until I saw the storm in the distance closing in at extremely fast speeds. “Percy?” He ignored me, throwing his axe into the tree line. I watched it sail farther than a normal axe could, until it landed with it's blade deep inside the trunk of a tree. Shocked was an understatement, nervous wouldn’t sell it, terrified couldn’t capture the feeling I felt at that moment, but Perseus was the picture perfect definition of calm.

“It’s time.” He said, just as the two Olympians walked into the area. They both radiated power, oozing godly energy that filled every space they walked. The one on the left hefted his gigantic broadsword onto his shoulder, smiling wickedly while his eyes burned behind sunglasses. The one on the right was less casual, keeping her form as she clutched the silver bow in her hand tightly, fingers twitching toward her quiver at her hip.

Ares and Artemis, two of the best fighters on Olympus and definitely powerful. “Hmph. I thought they would send formidable opponents.” I stared at Perseus, who just stood like an impenetrable wall of iron, his eyes calculating.

“You can’t bait us, kid.” Ares grunted, brushing imaginary dust off his leather jacket. “Come with us Perseus. Father demands your presence on Olympus.” Perseus glared at the maiden goddess. “If he wants me, he can come get me himself.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and for a moment Perseus has some nervousness cross his face, which was spotted with godly accuracy. “That’s right. Dear old dad is on his way right now. We’re just the greeting party.” Ares sneered, letting the broadsword fall to his side, it’s point scraping against the ground as he walked forward.

Artemis began creeping along the edge, an arrow already nocked and ready to fire in an instant. I readied my sword with slightly trembling fingers, not knowing which I would be fighting but dreading either option.

“I’ll make this quick than.” With those words, Perseus thrust his hand out with a determined expression. We heard it before we saw it, a soft hum from behind the two Olympians, before a spinning blur of blue and purple shot from the forest and into Perseus’ hand. Ares cried out in pain, clutching his should that had been hit by the axe. Ichor leaked between his fingers, painting the ground gold.

“You won’t get another hit, kid.” He growled, lunging forward at Perseus. He brought up the Leviathan Axe, blocking the strike with more effort than he showed on his face, the force of the strike pushing him back.

I almost got impaled by an arrow while I watched, turning just in time to block a silver streak from killing me. Artemis readied another arrow, gracefully pulling away into the trees. I watched with my sword held high, making sure to keep an eye on Perseus’ battle with Ares, though he seemed to be holding his own.

Every strike was blocked, every thrust evaded, not one person landing a hit on the other. I blocked another arrow, then another that came from somewhere else. She was fast, very fast, but I didn’t have to hold back my divine power anymore.

I used my control over the shadows to sense any disturbances, feeling her move to the right. I hardened the shadows into a spike, pulling it up into her feet. I knew I succeeded when I heard her gasp lightly, but my victory was short lived when several arrows came flying toward me.

I blocked the first two, but couldn’t move fast enough for the others to do anything but divert the fatal shots. I cursed as I yanked arrows from my thigh and shoulder, one had even hit my lower abdomen.

“Give up, son of Hades. You’re outmatched.” Artemis called, aiming once again. I tried to calm my breathing, to formulate the plan somehow with the short amount of time I had.

‘Time is the one thing you have not.’ I flinched as the mysterious voice filled my mind, chilling me to my core. “Go away.” I couldn’t move, the force of this voice keeping my feet planted in the ground.

‘I could help you. Only if you promise to help me.’ I struggled to stay calm, my anger rising as the voice continued. “I don’t need your help!” It chuckled, which was even creepier since I couldn’t see them.

‘Look around, Hades spawn.’ My head moved for me, but the message was clear. Ares has his blade high above his head, Perseus was below him on the ground with the Leviathan Axe gripped tightly in his hand. Artemis was aiming several arrows at places I couldn’t block that would definitely kill me.

Everything looked hopeless, the battle a loss, and even if we did win I could see the storm clouds in the distance closing in faster and faster. Curiously, everything was frozen at the moment, but I couldn’t focus on that for too long.

‘Accept my gift. Strike down the Olympians, then you destroy Perseus.’ Fading into view, as if it was veiled by a separate reality itself, a floating orange gem found its way into my open palm.

‘Equip it to your sword.’ Why they told me to I don’t know when my body moved for me, shoving the jewel into the hilt of my sword after removing the ruby. Orange lines crept across the blade, never quite reaching the tip, but just enough to be noticed.

Time returned back to normal after the voice had gone, and I had to act swiftly to save this battle from coming to a very fast end. Without thinking on how I knew what to do, I twisted the sword in my hand. The orange lines glowed bright, almost blindingly, and the words to speak reached my tongue. “Rhewi.”

Artemis stopped moving, frozen in time, and I fell to the ground with fatigue. “Poen.” I heard Perseus say, before Ares cried out in a scream that could reach the cosmos.

I turned to their battle with effort, my eyes widening in disbelief. Ares was on the ground writhing in pain, while Perseus stood over him with the Leviathan Axe clutched tightly in his hand, the amethyst gem shining with power. Perseus, however, was not looking at Ares or me, but at the new orange jewel on my sword hilt with something I’ve never seen in him before: fear.

“Nico.” He said, voice dangerously low. “Where did you get that?” I shuddered at how deep and powerful his voice became.

“A voice. In my mind.” I croaked, my secret finally coming to light. Perseus did not look satisfied with my answer, though it wasn’t much of one. He picked up Ares with surprisingly little effort, and embedded his axe into the god’s skull. Ares stopped screaming, his body collapsed to the ground in a heap of ichor and flesh like any common man.

“We must leave.” Perseus hefted the chest onto his shoulder, before pulling me to his side. “Shadow travel us.” I looked up at him. “But… the gods?”

“They will be busy dealing with this mess. Do it.” I nodded, and used the last bit of energy I had to converge the shadows on our bodies and transport us to the only place I could think of: home


	3. Sneaking Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico and Perseus land in a not-so-homey place...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I’m so sorry for not posting this sooner!!! My driving class just started so I’ve been swamped with all of that, and I’ve been working off debt to my family, it’s just been rough. Anyway, here is chapter three! The next one should be up later this week as further apology

The shadows warped and spun around me, like serpents slithering across my body. I couldn’t feel anything except the darkness, the deep black that called to me every time I set foot into a shadow. So alluring yet so dangerous, so easy to get lost in the inky darkness that held mystery and promise.

Not too long, however, I was out of the shadows and into the light of the sun, not alone with Perseus holding me against him like a lifeline. Even with all his power, it would take only letting go of me while we shadow travelled to destroy any being,mortal or otherwise.

I collapsed to the ground once he let go, leaning against a tree and sucking in gasps of air, as much as my body allowed. “Where did you take us?” He asked roughly. I didn’t answer, didn’t meet his eyes because I knew he knew exactly where we were.

I yelped when he yanked me up, slamming me into the very tree I had leaned on for comfort. “How dare you bring me back to this place!” He yelled in a harsh whisper, eyes shifting in every direction. “If we get caught, I will kill you. Understood?” I nodded silently.

He dropped me, fuming, and punched the tree right where my head was. His fist tore through the tree like paper maché, the top sliding off onto the ground in a heap of broken branches and leaves. “Come. We have to move.” Perseus lifted the chest onto his shoulder and began walking in what seemed a random direction but I was not naive enough to believe it was such.

As we walked, my trembling hands touched my sword, the cold leather grip not as familiar as before. The orange stone sat dormant and dull, it’s power at rest for now, but I knew it would only take my thought to activate it. What it was I don’t know, but what it did was becoming clearer. The being who had given it to me had frozen the time around us, and when the stone was with me I had frozen time around Artemis. This jewel could control time, that was evident, but how it could do that was an enigma.

My eyes trailed to the Leviathan Axe hanging across Perseus’ back, the amethyst gem fluctuating in light and power ever so often. Could the two be connected? The language he spoke while using its power sounded similar to the one I had said while using my own stone.

Perhaps they were part of something greater, something that he was looking for. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t killed me, because he couldn’t get the stone if I was dead. Or maybe he was afraid, I had seen the look in his eyes when he saw me use the jewel: fear cloaked with anger. With the power this orange stone gave me, I could possibly kill Perseus, and that scared him. Not that I would kill him, we were friends, I believe. Though he doesn’t show it often, I know he is fond of me and my company on this long journey.

‘Maybe not much longer, if mistakes like this keep getting made.’

The woods around were more sinister than I remembered, the shadows longer and deeper. Camp Half-Blood had been a home when I had none, but the memories of good times were overshadowed by a slowly growing conspiracy at the heart of Olympus. The gods and their despicable acts have gone on too long, hit far too close to home for matters not to be taken into hand. Perseus was the only one willing to do so, the only one with strength and determination, a will like iron. Me, I was just along to help in any way I could.

However, my thoughts after the battle were spotty with the energy I had been drained of, and I could only think of a home, the last home I had. Thankfully we landed what I hoped was deep into the woodlands at the edge of the summer camp, away from demigods and nature spirits.

My hopeful thoughts were skewered when Perseus halted suddenly, head quirked to the side. He held up a solitary finger, the idea understood: stay quiet, stay put, don’t screw up. He set the chest on the ground silently, then the Leviathan Axe, and finally Anaklusmos. As quiet as a mouse and swift as a bird, he scaled up the nearest tree and kept across the branches like some Greek Tarzan.

Seconds past and I heard what had caused the sudden actions: a voice, a couple meters to the right. Light and high, yet not a child’s voice. I gulped back my fear, searching the trees for my companion. ‘He won’t leave me. He wouldn’t leave me here.’ I tried to stay calm, and it was beginning to work too, until the voice grew closer. I had no doubt I would be spotted, with nowhere to hide and no way to shadow travel away.

I waited, wishing for a miracle that it was just a random nymph or naiad that had gotten lost. Once again, my hopes were scattered to the winds as the voice’s host emerged into his line of sight.

“Oh shit.”

Not a nymph, not a naiad, a camper. Not just any camper either, a counselor, one who knew me very well.

She looked different now, definitely older and more battleworn. Her blonde hair lighter then the once honey color it had, almost like curls of wheat. Her tan skin still the same bronze sheen like a Greek warrior of old, that and the Drakon bone sword at her hip. She hadn’t seen me, she was walking leftward with a phone pressed against her ear as she spoke, no reason to even look in my direction.

With my luck though, the tree to my left decided to spew a drowsy nymph out of it. She yawned quietly, thank the gods, her eyes still closed from her sleep. She had light green skin with patches of brown here and there, with hair tangled like roots, a mix of the same color as the orange, red, and brown leaves that fell to the ground. She was covered in a dusty brown chiton that suited her well, not that I really cared.

When her eyes opened, onyx met hazel, and her face contorted in confusion. “Who-“ I slapped my hand over her mouth and pulled her against me, her back to my chest, and struggled to hold her still. “Shh, don’t say a word.” I whispered as quietly as possible. The nymph continued struggling, which in turn started to make noise ironically.

I silently prayed for Perseus to return, my eyes trained on the daughter of Athena. I grunted in pain as an elbow launched into my gut, but I only held tighter. Eventually she left the clearing, and I could relax slightly, however the nymph in my arms was allowed to escape.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She screeched, not loud enough to reach unwanted ears. “I’m sorry, I was trying to keep you quiet for a little while.” It was a pathetic excuse, even I could tell, one that only enraged her more. “I should kick your ass right here and now! Who are you?”

I was about to speak, when a black blur dropped from above right behind the nymph. Thick, muscular arms wrapped around the tree spirit’s fragile neck, putting her in a headlock that allowed no movement.

“You have exactly twenty seconds to plead for your life. After that, if I’m feeling merciful, you’ll have another ten seconds to pray to whatever god you care for most before I snap your neck.” I shuddered, even without being the target of his words. I almost forgot how brutal the demigod could be, his sea-green eyes a storm of anger and coldness.

“Oh gods. Please, please don’t kill me. I-I’m s-s-so sorry, I w-won’t hurt your f-friend!” The nymph begged, tears streaming down her cheeks like pond water. “Twelve seconds.” Perseus spoke emotionless.

“Perce, she didn’t mean to do anything, really.” I said, trying to save an innocent life. “She saw you, she has now heard me and knows my name. She has to die.” The nymph fell limp almost, chin trembling as she sobbed.

“P-Please! I w-w-won’t tell anyone!” I wrung my wrists, trying to think, trying to find a way for her to survive. “Twenty seconds is up. Start praying, nymph.” Her eyes screwed shut as she muttered prayers to whatever god she was thinking of. I couldn’t let her die.

“Wait!” I said, hands up to stop the murder. “She doesn’t have to die! We can take her with us!” Perseus looked at me incredulously. “What?” He hissed, muscles flexing and cutting of the the nymph’s airstream for a half-second.

“We can bring her with us. I could use the company while your gone, someone to help cook and prepare food. She probably knows some woodland magic too, which could be useful on the run. Right?” I looked to her, she nodded frantically. “See? She’s useful.”

Perseus stared at me, eyes narrowed and full of something I couldn’t quite identify. He stayed quiet for a long, suffering pause, before releasing her with a huff. “Fine. She stays alive.” I smiled thankfully, until he got very close, very fast. “But just know, if she does something, anything, that jeopardizes this mission, it’s on your head and hers.”

With that final word, he picked up the chest, dusting it off from the dirt it had say in. I watched him for a beat, before turning to my new companion. “Sorry about him. He can be a little tense sometimes.” She just stood with wide eyes, hands caressing her throat. “I… thank you, whoever you are.”

I smiled, offering a hand. “Nico di Angelo. Nice to meet you.” She took it carefully, eying me cautiously. “Aspen.”

“Are you two going to follow or not?” Perseus called, picking up his axe and sword from the ground and setting them in their respected as places at his hip and back.

“I cannot leave my tree.” Aspen said, eyes not focusing on Perseus.

The demigod sighed in frustration, bringing the Leviathan Axe back out. He focused on the tree Aspen has been standing next to, his grip tightening on the wooden handle. I watched, fascinated, as the amethyst gem glowed ethereally. “Trawsnewid.” The tree glowed purple, bright. When the light dimmed, the tree was gone, and in its place was a stone about the size of a baseball, covered in green and brown spots.

Perseus picked it up, setting the chest down gently and unlocking it with a simple wave of his hand. I looked away, not wanting to see the heart that I knew rested inside. The chest was closed, picked up again by Perseus. “There. Now you are linked to the stone, and the stone is in the chest, which is linked to me. You shall not leave my side, or face very fatal consequences. Understood?” Our new companion nodded slowly, head turned away from the sea spawn.

“Good. Now, onward. We have many miles to cover.” I sighed, feet already sore, and walked after him, Aspen following shortly behind me.


	4. Unlikely Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio head off to begin their journey again...

Eventually, we did leave the forest and emerge onto a road not travelled often, just a few short miles from the entrance to that wretched camp. Perseus had stopped a car and kindly thrown the mortal fifteen feet into the trees before taking the vehicle, leaving me and Aspen, the tree nymph, to follow.

She hadn’t spoken the entire walk, just kept her eyes to the ground and followed shortly behind me. I couldn’t imagine it was easy for her, she had awoken from her sleep only to be whisked off on a quest against gods she had no problem serving.

I sat in the passenger seat, Perseus taking his spot in the driving seat after placing the chest in backseat next to Aspen, one glare warning her from touching it in any way. I didn’t know where we were headed, didn’t know how we would be able to continue our quest easily after the fight with the Olympians. After a heavy silence had fallen, I voiced my question.

“Where are we going?” Perseus seemed like he knew I would ask, answering instantaneously. “Queens. I need to speak with a friend about finding someone.” Another friend, hopefully this one would be less terrifying and more alive after we left.

I looked out the window as the trees faded away into plains and ocean, my mind drifting to what would come.

xxΨωΩωΨxx

The car stopped outside a public park just on the edge of Brooklyn and Queens. Tourists and general New Yorkers wandered in and out of the park, not as populated as most places in the area.

“Corona Park? Who are we meeting in a place like this?” Perseus just walked on, leaving the question hanging out in the open, unanswered. I followed reluctantly, Aspen to my side admiring the water meadows and trees. I couldn’t imagine anyone horrible spending their time in a place like this, at least no one with a grudge against the gods.

As we moved closer to the other side of the park, I began to pick up on the smell of something not mortal, but divine in nature. I felt Aspen tense to my right, her pupils blown and mouth parted in shock.

“It can’t be…” she spoke for the first time since the forest.

“What is it, what’s going on?” I questioned, only to be ignored once again when the nymph ran off after Perseus, who had stopped at a bench.

I jogged after them, coming up behind the bench just as a woman materialized next to my companion. She had hair the color of tall grass in a meadow, skin fair and pale like royalty, an aura of power and wisdom.

“Perseus. It has been quite some time since we last spoke.” Her voice was soft and melodic, like a brook moving between pebbles. “Yes, Eurynome, it has.” The name was not familiar, but just the mention of it made the air seem sweeter, the water around me fresher, and the sun brighter.

“Chaos above, I've missed you.” She spoke softly, sounding close to tears. She suddenly hugged him, clutching him close to her as she sobbed. I was shocked beyond belief, especially when Perseus just patted her back, soothingly whispering in her ear. “It’s alright, I’m here. It’s ok. I know I should’ve visited sooner, I should’ve taken you with me.”

I decided I would ask later, the timing was not good for questi n’a at the moment. Eurynome released the demigod, sniffling and wiping away tears with a big smile. “I missed you oh so much, my son.”

Ok, maybe questions needed to be answered now.

“What?!” Me and Aspen squeaked at the same time, though I doubt for similar reasons. I gaped like a fish, mouth closing and opening as I stared at the woman with similar sea-green eyes, though hers were more blue, like a lake.

“Yes, didn’t he say? I adopted Perseus after he ran away from his old home.” I looked to my companion, questions dancing in my eyes for sure, but he refused to look away from Eurynome.

“M’lady!” Aspen suddenly burst out, falling to her knees in a deep bow. “It is such an honor to be in your presence.” She praised, forehead practically touching the ground. The woman, Perseus’ adoptive mother, chuckled softly. “You do not need to bow, child.”

Aspen arose slowly, smiling brightly and practically jumping with nervous energy. “Sorry! It’s just, well, you’re sort of a legend, and to be here, now, talking to you it’s like talking with a god!” She spouted our faster than I could follow.

“Titan, actually, but thank you anyway.” Eurynome said with a smile. I froze, hand drifting to my sword at her declaration. “A Titan?”

Perseus narrowed his eyes at me. “If you touch my mother, i will rip your arms off and beat you with them.”

“Now, now, Perseus. You know how I hate violence, don’t speak like that.” She chided, hitting his arm.

“It is true, Mr. di Angelo. I am a Titan, though I can assure you I hold no i'll will towards you.” I let my hand fall back, believing her though I don’t know why. Perseus focused back on Eurynome, face more downcast than before.

“Mother… I have a favor to ask.” A long, sufferable sigh came from the Titan, a small frown adorning her face. “So this is not a social visit, then?” Perseus squirmed slightly, eyes not meeting hers. “I need to know… where your ex-husband is.”

In an instant, the Titan’s mood went from forlorn to furious, eyes glowing a blindingly bright blue. “Why would you ever ask about that bastard?!” She bellowed, a fierce sneer etched onto her stone cold face.

Perseus swallowed, looking as if he was being forced to eat a poison apple. “He has something that I need, if I am to complete my quest.” This answer did not quell Eurynome’s fury much, her eyes dimming only slightly.

“You promised you would assist in any way. This is it, this is the only thing I need your help with.” Perseus met his mother’s eyes, his own full of sorrow and regret. “Please.”

I had only heard my companion plead for anything back a few months ago, when he was sarcastically asking for things from some demigods that had captured them. Of course, it turned out to just be a ruse as we broke out and slaughtered the entire group, including a few heavy hitters as the plan had dictated. Now, however, he was serious.

Eurynome gathered back her divine power, sighing deeply. “Okay. I’ll tell you where he is.” She said sadly, a tear falling to the ground. Perseus hugged her tightly, burying his face in her name and whispering a thousand apologies.

“Alright, enough.” She laughed. “I’ll tell you where he is, on one condition.”

“Whatever you need.” Perseus replied.

“Whenever you see him… say hello for me.” The demigod smirked evilly, nodding. “Also, come visit me more. I get ever so lonely when you’re gone.”

I smiled at the show of motherly love, knowing Perseus needed something like this to fill his heart. “You’ll find him just outside New Orleans, in the Jean Lafitte National Park. He likes to live amongst his kind.” She said distastefully, obviously not holding any warm feeling for her previous husband.

“Thank you, mother. I’ll return after we meet with him, but then I must return to the quest.” Eurynome didn’t seem too worried about the promise, it seemed, smiling gingerly as she hugged Perseus once more.

“Stay safe, Perseus. You may be stronger now, but he is still a Titan.” The way she said Titan did not bode well for the remainder of this quest, but I chose to ignore it for now. I’ve seen Perseus take on gods before, even Ares, and come out victorious. I knew we would, once more, win the day.

xxΨωΩωΨxx

New Orleans was hot, the Louisiana sun and humidity creeping across my back like a heavy blanket. It didn’t help that it was mid-July, the hottest days just beginning for us, and yet my companions seemed less affected than myself.

Perseus, like a statue, showed no effect from the heat, sweat running down his face like quicksilver droplets. Aspen, on the other hand, seemed to do a complete 180 in the heat, becoming more bubbly and energetic.

“Isn’t this great? All the nature and wildlife, it’s amazing!” She rambled, eyes alit with joy. “You certainly have changed your tone.” Perseus said flatly, pushing a branch out of the way to continue walking through the marshlands.

“Well… I’ve never been outside the forest, and this is all so exciting and new.” Aspen blushed. “I can’t believe Lady Eurynome is your mother!”

Perseus smirked, breaking his cool exterior. “Yes, I imagine that would be a big deal to you.”

“Who exactly is Eurynome? I’ve never heard of a Titan with her name.” I asked, ignoring the disgruntled scoff from Aspen.

“No, I wouldn’t think you have. Mother isn’t very well known in our pantheon, only a minor Titan of waterlands and pasturelands. More known, unfortunately, is her ex-husband.” I was very much aware of the poison in his words, though I wasn’t sure why. Whoever this Titan was, he must be a right prick.

“Lady Eurynome is a legendary figure of nature. All the nymphs in my tree line dreamt of a day where she would return, her and Pan and Aura and Lelantos, all powerful figures in nature.” Aspen spoke with such mirth in her voice it was hard not to see the beauty in the nature surrounding us.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, stepping over the large roots that took up a lot of the ground. The swampy terrain was only getting denser with trees and vegetation, becoming wilder and overgrown, no one stunting the growth.

“How long have we been in this place?” I questioned, honestly not knowing. “Half an hour, and we’ll be longer if you don’t hurry up.” Perseus grunted displeased with the time as much as I was.

As much as I wanted to see the quest fulfilled, it was times like this where I wondered if it was worth it. Traveling through a humid swamp, sweat pouring down my back, headed to a place that could possibly kill me in a very painful way. I knew, in the end, it would be worth t to see the gods fall from their thrones, literally and figuratively. And yet, sweaty back and a desolate future.

“We’re here.” Perseus whispered, coming to a stop at the edge of an opening in the trees and vegetation. A lonely hut sat at the center of a lake, made out of mud and clay. The waters were black as night, filled with dirt and other vile things, but most of all was the writhing and slithering serpents gliding in and out of the lapping waves.

“Uhm… those don’t look very friendly.” Aspen squeaked, half-hiding behind me. Perseus scoffed, unbuckling Anaklusmos from his belt while keeping it in its sheath.

“I’d hate to do this, but I’m not swimming with snakes.” He muttered, before pulling the Greek blade from the sheath it had rested in for years.

The once glowing bronze was dull and lifeless, like a normal Celestial Bronze xiphos, though I knew it was much more than that. Perseus stared down at the blade, twirling it in his hand with an air of familiarity.

“Hello, old friend.” He whispered, a small smile forming.

I sucked in a breath as the blade began to glow, only softly at first, but growing brighter by the second. The water, up to this point rocky and rushing, stilled in its place as the demigod was reunited with his old sword. Anaklusmos vibrated, happy to be in the hands of her old master after so long in the dust.

Perseus held her out, the blade a millimeter away from the water’s surface, and concentrated. “What is happening?” Aspen asked, eyes trained on the demigod. “He’s using his heritage for the first time in a very long time. It must feel like such a relief, to be part of the sea again.”

True to my own words, he seemed more at ease with Anaklusmos’ familiar weight in the palm of his hand. The water shifted, obeying it's prince, and formed a solid bridge that led to the solitary hut. Perseus breathed steadily, beads of sweat running down his face.

“We don’t have much time. I haven’t used these powers in a long time.” I grabbed Aspen’s hand and dragged her across the bridge before she could protest, Perseus following behind us.

“How can he do that?” She asked frightenedly, looking back at the exhausted half-blood. “He’s a son of Poseidon, he can bend the water to his will.” Aspen looked up at me, mouth agape and eyes wide.

“Wait, what?!”

“Shut up and move, the bridge is going to collapse any moment now!” Perseus barked, his trusty sword shaking in his hand with the energy he poured into her.

I dragged Aspen along faster, finally making it to the other side just as Perseus collapsed to the dirt, the water sloshing back into place.

“It has been… far too long… since I’ve trained my abilities.” He gasped, taking in air in rapid breaths.

“You’re a son of Poseidon? The, son of Poseidon?” Aspen demanded, hands on hips and eyes narrowed almost angrily. Perseus stood shakily, arms spread in faux showmanship. “The one and only.”

I snorted at his sarcasm, letting him lean against me for support. “Well, not really anymore.” Aspen murmured.

Perseus snapped his head up, eyes darkening a shade as he locked eyes with the disgruntled nymph.

“What?” His voice was deep and baritone, like when he was furious at me a couple of days ago. Before Aspen could answer, the hut’s door slammed open, a man emerging with a broadsword in hand.

“Who dares enter my- Perseus Jackson?” The man was startled, apparently, at the sight of my companion, who was standing on his own.

“Yeah.” He said bitterly, before punching the man square in the nose with a sickening crack. “Mom says hi, douchebag.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowee!! This chapter was really fun to right, I felt like it stuck more true to the OG Riordan writing format too, idk if you guys feel like that too but whatevs. Also, yeah Percy has his heritage linked to Anaklusmos, and there is a legit reason, but you’ll have to wait to find out mwahaha. If you can guess this mysterious Titan, you get one(1) cookie. Love you all, thanks for reading!!!!


	5. Unknown Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers are revealed and a look into a different perspective...

When I woke up yesterday morning, I didn’t think it was any different than all the other mornings.

Wake up, stretch my branches a bit, and than go gossip with Pine and Cedar about the naiads in a nearby pond. However, I was very surprised when I opened my eyes and saw a boy standing outside my tree.

When I tried to ask for his name, he had the nerve to subdue me, holding me against his lethe and sweaty body. When I struggled and elbowed him he finally let go, but I was only free for a moment before his giant of a friend decided I needed to die.

Yeah, it’s as horrifying as it sounds.

Though, the being held against my will part wasn’t as terrible as the almost dying bit, that Perseus had very nice muscles. Well, at least something about him was nice, because his personality was absolutely lacking.

Then again, later on when we met Lady Eurynome (OMG best day ever!) he seemed so much calmer and sweeter, gentle and cautious. Maybe if he was like that all the time I would have some feeling towards the brute, but alas he is a bigger asshole than that satyr that tried to hit on me and my best friend at the same time.

All of this, of course, was yesterday. Today, however, was almost just as shocking. We trekked through an entire swampland in a National Park, which was already amazing, but the whole time Nico di Angelo kept complaining about heat and humidity and such. Why couldn’t he just enjoy the little bits of nature that were left in this world?

When we arrived at our destination, I was a little disappointed. The hut was very small and modern compared to the large and wild swamp it resides in, almost like an abnormal obstruction to the otherwise untamed jungle of a marsh.

And then, Perseus has controlled the water to create a tangible bridge for us to cross. My theories were correct when he said he was a son of Poseidon, no, the son of Poseidon. The outlaw, the fugitive of Olympus that no one at Camp Half-Blood spoke of anymore, especially the cabin counselors. Perseus Jackson, the Hero of Olympus and disgraced prince of the sea.

I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. The hero I had grown up hearing tales about, of his wonderful deeds he had down for the gods and how he defeated the vicious Titans without a sweat. That man was… well, currently punching a Titan in the face.

I saw Nico pale considerably, something hard to see with his already pretty pale complexion. “Perce! You can’t just go punching Titans like that!” He screeched in protest, hand gripping at the odd sword at his waist.

“He deserved it.” The legendary hero said, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s right.” The man said, the heavy Louisianian accent showing clearly.

He was tall for a mortal, considering he wasn’t one anyway, reaching almost eight feet tall, with spindly legs and arms. He wore snakeskin cowboy boots and hat, blue jeans with a large buckle that read ‘Don’t Tread on Me’, and a white button up shirt with brown vest. Perseus huffed, clipping his sword to his belt, the blade no longer in the sheath that had been tossed to the side on the other side of the lake.

“Damn right I am.” I didn’t think picking a fight with a Titan was good idea, especially one so old and powerful, so I tried to defuse the situation.

“We humbly request an audience with you, Lord Ophion.” I heard Nico di Angelo suck in a breath next to me, apparently knowing the name.

The Titan smiled wickedly, revealing pale yellow teeth. “Aw, so you ‘eard of me?” His eyes flashed a little, drawing my attention to their less than normal appearance, more reptilian in nature with slitted pupils and yellow irises.

“The original Titan King, lord of snakes and reptiles, not to mention the biggest jackass in all of Othrys besides the other king. Yeah, we know you.” Perseus growled.

“That brat. Didn’t know how to handle not being the all powerful ruler of Gaia.” Ophion spat, eyes flashing dark purple.

“Lord Ophion, sir, an audience?” I pressed, not wanting to be killed out of spite. “Right. Come inside, and mind the last room on the right, I had some unwanted company earlier.” I didn’t know what that meant, but however he meant it I wouldn’t be going near that room.

Given the outside of the hut, the inside was much nicer, with carpeted floors and furniture made of rich brown leather. Ophion sat in an armchair in the living room, me and Nico di Angelo sitting on a couch just across from him while Perseus remained standing.

“So, what did you wanna talk about, cher?” He asked me, smiling creepily. “She needs nothing. It’s me who desires something from you.” Perseus grunted, leaning against a bean that held up the hut.

Ophion, displeased, sat back with a sigh. “And just what is it you need, boy?” Perseus was about to speak, when a muffled thump was heard farther into the hut, down a small hallway that ended in a door.

“What was that?” Ophion glared at the offending door, grip tightening in the armrests. “My… unwanted guest. Excuse me for a moment.” He arose, walking quickly to the back room, closing the door quickly.

“I don’t like it.” Perseus muttered once the door had closed, wandering around the small interior. “What are we doing here anyway?” Nico di Angelo, ever the questioner, asked, eyes not leaving the back room.

“He has something that rightfully belongs to me. I assume it’s hidden here, so I will take advantage of this distraction.” He began digging through drawers in the small kitchenette connected to the living room.

“Would you mind sharing a description of this thing?” Nico di Angelo asked, exasperated. “Big, yellow, glows.” I scoffed at his ‘helpful’ description, standing to help search the hut. I may not want a battle, but the sooner we were gone the better.

After a tense moment of silence, I broke the silence while simultaneously moving books on a shelf. “So… what exactly is this quest, and what does this big, yellow, glowing thing have to do with it?”

“The big, yellow, glowing thing, is one of six just like it, each one representing a part of the universe in a finite amount of power. The quest: kill the gods and topple Olympus from its place in the sky. This will just help tremendously.” Perseus said, basically recited, the information, as if he’s had to explain this to people before. Nico di Angelo nodded along, moving the couch cushions.

“So… these items are like… some mystical representations of the universe?” I questioned, placing books back in their original placement.

“Yes. Rumor says once all of them are brought together, the controller can use those universal powers to manipulate the very fabric of reality. I, of course, intend on using them to erase the gods from existence.” Perseus said, rifling through cabinets with a pleased smile, the first I had seen from him.

“Why do you hate the gods so much?” My question sent the room into another bout of silence, Perseus’ movements halted. He looked like he was going to answer, but the silence was instead cut through by the sound of the back room door opening.

As Ophion slithered out, a faint yellow light spilled through the crack, catching my eye. I turned to say something about it to Perseus, but he was already walking in the direction with no emotion on his face.

“Sorry about that. Now, where were- what’s going on?” Perseus pushed past the Titan, inspecting the door with narrowed eyes. “What’s in this room?” Ophion practically teleported in front of him, arms crossed over his chest like a disapproving parent.

“Sorry cher, can’t let you in there.” His voice, though calm, had a threatening undertone. I, for one, did not want to see a battle play out in such a small area.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, before Perseus spoke up. “Fine. I need to make a call.” The demigod walked out of the hut with a glare, leaving me and Nico di Angelo alone with the Titan.

“Well, while he does that, why don’t we speak.” Ophion took his place in the chair, me and Nico di Angelo following suit in our respected couch. We sat awkwardly, waiting for someone else to start talking.

“So, Lord Ophion-”

“Hold on a moment.” Ophion cut me off, nostrils flaring. His eyes were a deep purple, pupils narrowing like a serpent, and they were locked dead on Nico di Angelo.

“You smell… familiar. Like century old harvest and burnt sand.” He slipped out of the chair, back hunched and head forward as he inches closer to the couch.

“Who are you, boy?” He sniffed, nose flaring again, and groaned almost in pain. “My nose can pick up any scent, demigod. A son of Hades, now that is interesting, but there is something else, something far more… ancient.”

I looked between the two, not liking where this was going. “Maybe you smelt me by accident. I am a nymph after all.” Ophion hissed in reply, not leaving his spot. “No, you smell of trees and the forest. No, this is not some nature spirit, or even a nature god.”

“I’ve finished my call, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Perseus appeared in the doorway, a smirk already changing to a frown at the sight of us. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Your companion here, his scent is different.” Ophion sounded almost inebriated from the smell of Nico di Angelo, his eyes shifting intermittently from yellow to purple to red. “I’ve almost got it. Something old as me, but vastly different all the same.”

Nico di Angelo, apparently catching on before any of us, stood fast as lightning, backing up with his hands in the air. “Uhm, I think I also need to make a call.” He laughed nervously, shifting his eyes away from the Titan.

“What’s he talking about, Nico?” Perseus asked, encroaching further into the room.

Ophion gasped, nostrils flaring, and laughed wickedly. “I’ve got it! That scent, it’s-“ that’s when a blur of gold and brown shot through the room and into Ophion, shoving him into the wall.

“Finally found you, Ophion.” The blur turned into a man, with shoulder length brunette hair and glittering gold eyes. Wings of brown feathers stuck out his back, flapping softly to lift him and inch from the ground.

“Lelantos! You bastard!” Ophion roared. I stared at the newcomer, another Titan, but this one was a good guy, and one of my idols. “Lord Lelantos!” I squeaked, embarrassingly.

Ignoring me, he lunged at Ophion with rage clear in his eyes. I wanted to stay and root him on, but Perseus grabbed me by my wrist and dragged me to the back room with haste.

“Come on, we have to get the stone!” He slammed open the door, letting the yellow light deep into the rest of the hut.

Inside the room was a bed and table, with a large yellow stone hovering a few short inches off the surface. A beam of golden light connected it to a person, large and muscular, who was chained to the bed and writhing in agony.

“Gods above, who is that?!” Not waiting for an answer, I stepped forward and grabbed the floating stone, cutting off the golden beam. “Let’s go!” I commanded, only getting stared at with wide eyes.

“How…?” Perseus uttered, completely shocked. “What? Come on, we gotta go!” I raced past them, grabbing Perseus by his wrist to drag him out of the room.

The scene in the living room was more dire than I had hoped. Lelantos was sprawled out on his back, left wing twisted in a horrible angle, and Ophion was above him with a murderous look in his eyes, dagger raised above his head.

“No!” I shouted, voice echoing across the entire hut. The stone in my hand glowed bright, but I didn’t care as I channeled all my divine energy into my magic. Yellow lines grew up my arm like vines, spreading across my skin as I attempted to summon vegetation to assist.

“Leave… him… ALONE!” I screamed, feeling a painful pull in the pit of my stomach. My eyes shut in their own, but the sound of screams and cracking branches filled my ears. When the pain stopped, I collapsed to my knees and opened my eyes.

The hut had collapsed to the outside, trees standing tall in its place. Perseus and Nico di Angelo we’re fine, cradled by bushes in a corner, but Ophion was impaled through the abdomen by several trees.

“You… bitch.” He coughed, ichor leaking from his mouth.

Lelantos was passed out on the ground from the heavy beating he had received, bruises forming across his whole body.

“You deserve what you have brought upon yourself.” I snapped, full of anger for some reason. I didn’t feel like being angry, I felt tired and scared of the destruction I had caused.

“You walk with the company you keep and act like you have the moral high ground?” He groaned, trying not to move anymore than needed. The sky darkened considerably, leaving the marsh ominously dark.

“What are you talking about?” He chuckled, then coughed up a clot of golden ichor. “You are in the company of the fugitives of Olympus. The once hero turned traitor, after he slaughtered a group of demigods. That dark mind wasn’t formed in Tartarus, was it Perseus?”

I looked at said demigod, but he just stood with a blank face. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, the son of Hades carries with him the soul of my greatest enemy.” Ophion spat, glaring heavily at Nico di Angelo.

Perseus also looked to him, brow furrowed in confusion but eyes narrowed in thought. As if on cue, wind began to pick up, moving all around us.

Nico di Angelo looked terrified of what Ophion spoke of, eyes flickering between the Titan and Perseus. The wind around us began to blow harder, storm clouds closing in around the swamp. Without looking away, eyes wide and mouth parted in understanding, Perseus took his axe in hand and held the blade to Nico di Angelo’s throat.

“Is it true?” He growled, pushing the edge into his neck enough to draw a droplet of blood. “Stop it! He’s done nothing wrong!” I argued. Rain began to fall from the sky, thunder rumbling softly in the clouds.

“Oh but he has, cher. That boy is the future host of Kronos, Titan of Time and my most hated rival.” Ophion cackled madly, eyes glowing purple.

Lightning struck a tree, and in that flash of light Nico di Angelo’s eyes were filled with a wicked and evil shade of molten gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Cow!!! This one was a bit more of a challenge, and a bit longer than my usual chapter. Did you guys see any of that coming??? I’ve been planning most of this from the beginning, and even though some questions have been answered, there are still several left in the air. This’ll be my last chapter posted this week, I did three as an apology for my lack of progress. I’ll be doing weekly/bi-weekly posts from now on to give me space to think and plan, I hope you all love it!


	6. Revelations of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little insight into an interesting day for Perseus...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg omggggg I am so so sorry for the extended hiatus on the story, but school started a while ago and I’ve just been dealing with some stuff, but I didn’t stop writing friends, so I’ll be back on an regular update schedule. So sorry for being gone, but I’m back for more. <3

The wind was unbearable tonight. The pale light of the moon shown extra bright, like a blinding searchlight in the deep, dark sky above. I pulled the hood closer around my face, shielding any prying eyes, as I walked into the old and run-down pub. Some of my sources had led me here, whispers really, of a powerful item just bought by a very powerful and dangerous woman.

I opened the door without a sound, not that it mattered, I wasn't exactly incognito. The interior was brighter and livelier than I'd thought it be, night owls and bar flies hovering around the back while regular party goers danced and mingled all around. I sat at the nearest table, asking quietly for a gin and tonic when the waitress neared.

My eyes trailed across the bar floor, searching for the woman I knew would be here. I was slightly surprised I had not already felt her presence, someone so powerful had to be masking it heavily to not be detected, though the presence of so many mortals probably helped. The music was some popular song that I didn't care enough about to identify, but it got the crowd of drunkards riled and rowdy enough to make the job a bit easier.

I tried to focus, pushing the noise and various distractions away to feel for the divine energy that would most definitely stand out in a crowd. The music dulled, my eyes fluttered closed, and I was free to concentrate on the matter at hand. I sent out my own sliver of divine energy, letting it travel and spread through the bar, pushing against the mortals dancing and drinking, brushing past anything without godly blood. This was as close to astral projection as I dared to get in public, a trick my mother had taught me, but good enough to find the immortal. Other than a few great-great-great grandchildren of legacies, nothing special to see so far, though I did get a small chuckle at the amount of distant legacies of Dionysus. If I was in a bad mood I would kill all of them, using their bodies to spell out a large ‘Fuck You, Dionysus’ on the paved road outside, but luckily for them I was in a fairly good mood. Months without a lead, months of random and scattered raids of demigod encampments, now, finally, a thread that could take me one step closer to ending the gods and their reign of tyranny on this planet.

Like an alarm going off in my skull, I felt my energy projection pass across a large and bright ball of divine power. “Bingo.” I whispered, bringing myself back into the world around me. “Gin and-” I quickly whipped out a small steel dagger about the length of my hand, jagged and deadly, and held it at the throat of whoever had approached me, careful to not reveal my right hand. “... tonic.” She squeaked, eyes crossed trying to look at the steel blade centimeters away from piercing her jugular with deadly precision. I put the blade away swiftly, letting out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. Not that I didn't want to kill anyone, I would kill whoever dared sneak up on me, but this was definitely not the place to slip up and murder some random civilian just doing her job.

“Sorry, I'm not used to people sneaking up on me.” She let out a nervous laugh, setting the glass down with shaky hands that didn't go unnoticed. “It’s alright sir, I've been told I'm too quiet anyway.” I sipped at the drink, allowing the alcohol to affect me. Pulling out a rather large wad of mortal cash, I slipped it into her apron with delicate and gentle fingers. “For your troubles, miss… ?”

“Aspen.” She said in awe, hands instinctively flexing toward the money. My eyes widened, pulse quickened, pupils dilated, and head spun. The name was, unfortunately, one I knew well, though I knew of no mortal who had it. “That is an… interesting name.” I choked, swallowing the gravel in my mouth. “Yeah, my family has an affinity for tree names. It's pretty weird.” She giggled, brushing her blonde hair back behind her ear. The blonde flashed to auburn, and my vision burned with pain, so much I had to physically squeeze my eyes shut just to blink the images away. Auburn hair mixed with hazel and yellow like corn, eyes like a deep and rich tree, a smile that never dimmed.

“Yes, that is strange.” I opened my eyes, refusing to look into her own, knowing they wouldn't be the ones I longed to see. “Are you okay, sir?” She asked concerned, seemingly forgetful of the knife incident that happened little over a minute ago. “Fine. You just remind me of someone I used to know, long ago.” I almost felt her smile droop into something reminiscent of a frown, but not a proper frown of regret.

“Oh. Did they… are they… ?”

“Dead?” I supplied with a sigh. “She might as well be.”

Awkwardness filled the air, the waitress whose name I had already blocked from my mind muttered something before leaving to tend to other tables. I almost slapped myself once she was gone, downing the rest of my drink with brutal determination. ‘Come on Jackson. Get your shit together, you have a job to do.’ I thought in a voice that didn't belong to me, but someone much sweeter and innocent, a chiding voice of mock frustration, the kind of voice that came from a mouth hiding a smile.

I rose from my chair, left another hefty tip on the stained table, and walked to the divine energy I felt earlier. Getting closer, I felt a small ripple in the area as the mask was lifted, my presence discovered but not destroyed like it most certainly could be. I arrived at the booth in the back corner, face to face with the woman I was looking for. Her brunette hair was up in a twisted and tied bob, elegant and simple like a lawyer ready to prosecute, which went well with the navy pantsuit she wore. Her burning eyes were blue and bright, full of intelligence and a piercing will.

“Take a seat, Percy Jackson.” I did as told, summoning a chair under me with little exhaustion afterward, something I had also learned from my mother. “A little cliche, sitting in the dark corner of a bar, waiting for me like a classic villain.” She smiled, though it was lifeless and humorless. “You call me the villain? You’re not the one sitting across from a murdering terrorist of Olympus.”

I snorted, waving over a waiter who gave me a ‘one minute’ nod. “A Titan who judges those who go against Olympus, that’s a first.”

“I did not fight the Olympians in any war, Percy Jackson.” The waiter arrived, taking down my order of a second gin and tonic and my guest’s order of a glass of the most expensive and old red wine in their stock.

“And yet, you didn't help them either. Not to mention, your husband was very active in both of the wars.” She sniffed with a turned up nose that demanded authority. “I don't control my husband’s actions.”

“Bullshit.” Our orders came back in earnest, the waiter leaving quickly at the sight of the brewing storm. “You control everything in your life, why not Koios as well? He is rather dull and dim witted, don't you think?”

“Calling the Titan of Intelligence dim witted is certainly brazen of you, Percy Jackson.” She said with an elegant eyebrow raised. “So is saying the Titaness of Intelligence married a moron, and yet, that was insinuated as well.”

Silence filled where speech once was, both of us sipping at our drinks and staring at the other with apt attention. “You certainly are either bold or absolutely foolish.”

“And you better not be foolish enough to waste my time, Phoebe.” I said with a tone that left no room for argument, even for her. “If you want the gem, you should be better company, Percy Jackson.” She said with a wicked grin, letting her feet rest atop the table, hands folded across her lap, like a boss just waiting for me to say something that would get me fired. From her suit jacket pocket, she pulled out a glowing green gem about the size of an acorn, setting it on the table.

“Now, Percy Jackson, let’s talk about some things before I give you the stone.” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “Not just intelligence, also the Titaness of prophecy. I know what happens during this encounter, I used my very limited gift to see every outcome.” I decided to take that as a good sign.

“Percy Jackson. Terror of Olympus. What makes you think you deserve to carry this stone?” I looked at the referenced gem, pulsing with hidden life. “I possess most of its siblings. Why shouldn't I?” Phoebe chuckled at my, guessing, mistake. “You possess, what, three others? And yet, I still don't see you using any of them to their proper scale.”

I could almost feel the other stones hum at the insult. “I may not use them to their full potential, but that doesn’t mean I haven't used them in ways that would leave even you stunned.” I let loose some of my hidden power to show off, letting the surrounding area fill with the aura of my energy. The table and walls ran crimson with blood, floorboards creaking and shaking with malevolent intent, objects teleporting rapidly to different spots faster than the naked eye could perceive.

“Are you quite finished?” Phoebe said with no signs of being swayed. Everything returned to normal as I tugged the energy back into its holding place, feeling a little out of breath. “You've shown that you can barely reign in the power of the stones, and you want me to just hand over the next? You certainly are more foolish than I thought, Percy Jackson.”

I frowned, letting the rising anger ebb away like a burn deep in the pit of my stomach. “I have control.” I let the cloak on my back fall slightly, letting just the slightest edge of the holding device show to the Titan’s eyes. To my surprise, she looked shocked and even a little scared, though she hid it after a little less than a second. “I… didn't see that in my visions.” She cleared her throat, letting her dominating presence return with a vengeance.

“Let me poke into your head, Percy Jackson.” It wasn't a question, it was a demand, but one I was happy to abide by. “Shoot.”

“How did you come to this place?” I leaned back in my chair. “Rumors of a Titaness holding a gem of immense power doesn't get past many people before landing at my feet. I imagine I've got another three days before even the Olympians hear about it.” I let a cocky tone slither into my words, knowing it would prod the Titan like a barb.

Her eye twitched ever so slightly. “As the Fates would have it, I came only because I saw you would arrive. How can it be that I saw something that would happen before I even set into motion the events that would make it come to pass, Percy Jackson?” The question, though convoluted, had a simple answer.

“You didn't.” That cocky voice seeped in again, poking her ego like a hot spike. “Your gift of prophecy hasn't worked in decades and everyone from Othrys to the Underworld knows it. Do you take me for some common demigod?”

A twitch of the lip, a tightening of the mouth.

“Are you calling me a liar, Percy Jackson?” I let a smirk fall to my lips. “I'm calling you a coward, Phoebe. A scared and aging Titan with fading domains.”

Another eye twitch, this time much more prominent.

“How could you possibly-”

“How could I possibly know? It's so simple, I can't believe you can't get it yet, oh Titaness of intelligence.” She finally broke, a sneer gracing her lips and her eyes narrowing with fury. “You sniveling little demigod. I am a great Titan! You are nothing to me!”

I laughed heartily and mockingly, rocking back slightly. “I may be a demigod, but you are so afraid of me you let the biggest weapon in your arsenal lie in front of you like a scare tactic, and didn't have the afterthought to check that it was still there.” Terror in her eyes, she stared down at the now empty spot where the gem once sat. Fire brimmed in her blue eyes like a flurry of azure flames that begged to break through and set blaze to my very mortal body. “You… you fucking brat!” She bellowed, ripping the table out of the ground and throwing it to the side, grabbing me by the throat and pinning me to a wall nearby. “You have no idea the powers you play with, sea spawn!” She screamed in my face, spewing poisonous words like snake venom.

“You know nothing, Phoebe. Ever since we sat down, you've used my full name. Every time you felt scared, you dropped all names. Your pupils got smaller and your fingers squirmed at every lie. You are as predictable as a house tour, bitch.” The Titan growled animalistically, baring her teeth like a proper alpha wolf.

“You are the last chain in a dying race. Once the Olympians are dead, I am coming for the last of the Titans who do not swear allegiance to me.” I spoke calmly, though I did let the thought pass my mind that with a swift squeeze she could crush my throat.

She let out a croaky and breathless laugh, more like a wheeze. “Do you think me daft, boy? You wouldn't dare touch the Titans now, not when your friend’s body is the host of our king.” I felt the time stop around me, the temperature drop at the mere mention of his title, but I could only really sense the red-hot rage filling my veins.

I kicked the Titan off of me, launching her into the wall adjacent of me. Without effort, I used my power to teleport directly in front of her and slam my right hand, palm open, against her throat and close it mercilessly.

My secret weapon was revealed, the gauntlet made of Celestial Bronze, Imperial Gold, adamantium, and mortal gold and copper, fused in the heart of a dying star thousands of light years away from here. Six sockets on the back of the hand, five on the knuckles and one in the center, three already filled. The thumb, forefinger, and middle knuckles held, in that order, a purple, red, and blue gem, each one glowing with power far greater than what it could show. Phoebe shook in horror, her face pale and lifeless like her smiles.

“You listen here, Titan. I will free Nico from his bonds with your king, and then I will destroy Othrys with my own bare hands if I have to. I will level the entire state of California if I deem it necessary. No woman, man, or child will escape the wrath I bring upon your little mountain you call a kingdom. Everything you love will burn, everyone you care for will be nothing but ash amongst ash, your life will be the last I take as you watch the world filled with fire and smoke from the hell I wrought just to smite your pathetic race from the face of Gaia. And when the smoke clears and the ash settles, the last thing you see before I tear your brainless head from your miserable corpse is a world cleansed of your stench, and the stench of everything you've touched.”

The words flowed like smooth and deep oil, each syllable filled to the brim with rage, killing intent, and more so than anything else, truth. The Titan in my hand was a mess of sobbing and pleading, pathetic begging like a dog being put down. I felt the cool breeze of the outside air, just now noticing the affect my words had on my surroundings.

The bar was leveled, crushed like an aluminium can beneath my boot. Bloody skeletons that were once mortals were scattered across the ground, the smell of rotting bodies filling the once pure air of the forest. Phoebe was being held by nothing but my own hand, the wall behind her blown away like paper. She had pissed herself, so terrified of what I had done, what I had said, what I would do to her.

Her words didn't reach my ears, torn away by the wind of the outside world, but I could tell she was begging with everything she had that I would stop and leave the Titans to rule over Othrys alone. “You have nothing left to offer me, Phoebe. You already gave me what I wanted.” I rubbed the green stone in my hand with my thumb, before bringing it to the socket of my ring finger knuckle, letting it shoot from my hand into place. I could feel the power flow through me, almost painfully so, but after the first three times it was easier.

“Two to go. I'll be stopping by Othrys to collect what belongs to me soon, Titan, and when I do, I want it to be you who gives me what I desire.” I used my new stone to poke into her mind, letting my presence fill her thoughts and cloak her mind in a hazy green fog. Her eyes filled with a pale green light, she stopped struggling and pleading and just hung limply in my hand.

“Yes, master Perseus.” She said in monotone. Victorious, I let her drop to the ground with a thud. She stood, apparently waiting for more orders before I was finished with her. Now that I think about it, looking at her more closely, I could use her for a little stress relief. “Come back to my apartment. You can serve me in my bedroom until I need you to return to Othrys.”

She nodded, coming to stand beside me. I offered an arm, which she looped her own through like we were a red carpet couple getting our picture taken. It was unethical, sure, but I needed to rid my mind of hazel eyes and auburn hair. As we teleported away, I subconsciously willed her hair and eyes to change to the desired color of the only girl I loved. “You will answer to Aspen from now on, no questions.” I said, letting the red mist flow around our bodies to bring us to my humble abode.

“Yes, master Perseus.”

“Percy is fine, Aspen.” I said, already feeling my heart get lighter and the pain slowly lift. With a simple thought, I had her smiling with cheerfulness. I willed the red mist to close around us and thought of my home, staring into the eyes of my faux former lover.


	7. A Legend Untrue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some further analysis of the depth of a war taking place...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be my second update this week, and I’ll be trying to stay with a consistent update a week, maybe two if I’m feeling generous lol. Enjoy some fun stuff and stuff, for things are getting more complicated for our little Perseus

My day had started off normal, as it did these days. Me and my troop of various nymphs, mostly dryads and naiads, raided another demigod encampment, taking supplies and plans, then burning down their irrigation systems in controlled locations to keep the visibility and pollution to a minimum. We split up the plans, memorised each of our pieces, and then burnt those too.

I hated the fire, the cruel element that kills thousands of my brothers and sisters each year, but more than that I hate the evil and villainous intent around it. Fire destroys, it doesn't create anything but other tools of destruction. In war, however, my own morals were pushed aside for the good of the people. Besides, General Jackson loved fire, loved to use it on his enemies and even some civilians, “necessary casualties” he called them, but it was hard to see the necessity when he smiled that devilish smile that screamed lies.

I joined his side willingly, like most others, and had good reason as well. He spoke truths, exposing the gods of Olympus for what they really are: tyrannical kings and queens, masters of their own children, keeping anyone they deem lower than them as slaves to their empire. I had my doubts, of course, we were told this by a known terrorist of Olympus, why wouldn't he slander their name to anyone who listened. After some days of thought, however, my entire grove was ready to go to battle against the gods, and I was one of them.

Our job was really simple, even to me: raid the demigod camps around the country, report anything suspicious, and burn everything that could help the gods. General Jackson hardly ever made an appearance, other than monthly meetings with his captains and lieutenants to discuss war stuff and other such things. I didn't pay much attention to that, left that to the higher ups, though one day I did hope to be more than just a scout.

I wasn't much help in a fight, we typically left that to satyrs and oreads, the nymphs of mountains. I'd never met an oread until I joined, and boy they were quite something. Standing at a solid seven feet, all muscle, skin grey and hard as rock, fists the size of mallets. They were a force to be reckoned with, that was for sure. Me and my troop had two oreads, three naiads, one satyr, and two dryads, including me. The satyr, Florence, was our Troop Commander, had been since I got here, and was a pretty good fighter when it got down to such things.

Usually, the demigods were asleep or on a mission for the gods when we arrived at their encampments, maybe one or two guards, but they weren't any match for us. I myself was gifted in nature magic, able to summon vines to silence them quicker than they could say Epimetheus.

I never took the life of a demigod, leaving that to the brutes of our troop. As much as I loved the cause and cheered for the downfall of the gods, I couldn't bring myself to kill a demigod, someone who probably didn't even know the horrible deeds of their parents. Unfortunately, General Jackson was extremely clear about the short list of laws we, as his assembled command, absolutely had to follow.

One, never leave a demigod alive, because if you even give them a tiny, miniscule particle of a chance to kill you, they will.

Two, never fraternize with an ally of the gods, they chose the wrong side and shall be treated as enemies of me directly.

Three, everything burns, everything is ash waiting to be transformed to its final form.

Four, gods can be killed, and should always be treated as killable things, not gods.

Finally, five, betrayal begets banishment.

I've never witnessed a banishment before, but I heard stories of the act. General Jackson personally foresaw the event, a mass event in the large center of our headquarters. The person on trial had three chances to prove they were anything more than traitorous scum, in his words, or be banished to a fate worse than anything the Fields of Punishment could offer. From what I've heard, no one has ever convinced the general, mostly pleaded and begged for their life. What banishment was, however, no one was fully sure. Some speculated it was a metaphor, banishing the traitor from the living world via public execution, or maybe it was quite literal, General Jackson sending the betrayer to a random spot in the world and leaving them there to find a place to live.

Whatever it was, anybody who witnessed such an event was sworn to secrecy, and rightfully so. Apparently, the last dryad before myself had been banished in front of our troop commander, and he was never the same afterward. My thoughts on the subjected were interrupted when Gabbro, one of the oreads, called out from the front to signal we had reached our destination.

We entered a fortress, a large structure surrounded by five walls, each manned by three soldiers and a ballista, with one gate made of Celestial Bronze and iron. Fort Alastor was one of the main forts, one of three, on the northern front. Based in Bottineau, North Dakota, the harrowing fortress was home to over three thousand soldiers, about seven hundred or so troops of nymphs and satyrs and some hundred guards.

Our successful raid of a small encampment about six miles west of here, what had thought to been the group of scouts trying to spy on our own military camp, had led to the discovery of something far scarier than what we had been looking for. After reporting the news through an Angelia Message to the nearest captain, of whom was at Fort Alastor, Florence told us with a wide and fake smile that, in his words, “The gracious and merciful General Jackson would like to meet us at Fort Alastor.”

I was the only troop member actually excited to meet the famed general, revered as an excellent fighter and leader, the most legendary demigod of the generation. Walking through the crowded exterior of the fortress, soldiers milled and whispered rumors of General Jackson being inside the building, like school girls gossiping about boys and secrets. I felt a rush of nervous energy, like adrenaline. The general never intervened in the, frankly, normative scouting missions unless something of vast importance to the mission was found.

Florence turned to us at the large doors, nervous smile up and trying its best to convince us that this would go swimmingly. “Well, let's go report to the general!” He said cheerfully, though his eyes were nothing but pools of anxiety and worry. I couldn't help but think back to the last time he stood before General Jackson, bearing witness to the cost of betraying him, the one secret that everyone knew about but could never say.

Walking into the fort was like stepping into another world, a better world than this one. Tapestries of various battles hung from the ivory walls, marble columns rose from the ground like towering skyscrapers, going on and on and on, into the clouds of the ceiling. Rivers of water ran down the corridor, leading into a circle around the main room of the fortress, taking the form of a large Omega symbol with an extended bottom. An oak table sat sturdy and large in front of a tall window that opened to the fortress grounds, but walking closer I could see that it wasn't a table at all, but a large stump in the middle of short-cut grass square in the middle of the room. Torches of Greek fire lined the columns surrounding the circular room, bathing the area in a poisonous green light, shadows darker than natural. Shivers of fear ran down my back like icy hands caressing my spine.

I saw him, General Jackson, for the first time since the last gathering of the command. His long ebony hair had been trimmed to just above his neck, held back with a black bandana with intertwining red lines. He wore his trademark black cloak, despite the late spring heat coming up from the south, looking almost olive in the torch light. Black boots propped up on the stump, hands folded over his lap like some fancy CEO of a worldwide company, a presence demanding subservience, and I was happy to submit.

I tried to not stare at the gauntlet, such magnificent and luxurious craftsmanship holding four stones of unimaginable power and strength. The glowing purple, red, blue, and green contrasted greatly against the other natural light of the room, almost pushing away the sunlight and torch fire.

His eyes focused on us immediately, stopping his conversation with the captain of Fort Alastor, who also chose to look at our lowly troop with a small grimace. “Troop 114, I presume?” The captain spoke first, her voice rough and gravely. “Yes ma'am.” Florence replied, squirming beneath the prodding eyes of the general.

“General Jackson would like you to state, in great detail, what you found in that encampment.” Florence nodded, fiddling with his hands and trying his best to stare anywhere, anywhere, except those piercing sea green eyes.

“Well, er, it was a… sort of a…”

“Too slow.”

I was startled at the deep tone of the general, his eyes not moving, body not moving, nothing about him showing that he had even spoken, but such a powerful and baritone voice could only come from him. His eyes looked to Gabbro, and he nodded at him.

“Well, sir-”

“No.”

He spoke again, narrowing his eyes with what I could only perceive as annoyance. He stood, rising to just a few inches short of the oread’s height, walking in front of our troop. He stalked past each member, like a predator on the hunt for a good meal, disregarding anything less than the best. Finally, he stopped in front of me, mouth turned slightly in a small frown as he looked me up and down.

“You. Talk.”

It was an order, a direct command from the highest point of authority. I took in a shuddering breath.

“We swept through the camp, taking out the demigods left behind and burning the supplies we couldn't carry with us, until we found their main tent. We raided it, taking all the plans and memorising them as prioritised, when troop commander Florence found a letter from Olympus on a desk. It was written in a language he didn't speak, Old Gaelic. I knew it some, enough to read several lines that told of a weapon the gods had acquired, one that could…” I trailed off, swallowing the anxiety down like a pile of nails stabbing into me, piercing my confidence.

“Could what?” General Jackson said softly, closer than I remembered, his aura almost overwhelming me. “A weapon that could kill… you.” The torches extinguished themselves, the water stilled, the wind, which had blown but softly, had come to a sudden and unnatural stop. General Jackson was still, not one part of him moving, not one inch of him conveying any thought he was having.

Suddenly, as if startled by his own thoughts, the general jerked away from me and retreated to his chair with haste. “If the Olympians think they can kill me, they are more than welcome to try. Let them send Ares or Athena, I've fought more powerful and far smarter beings than them.” He spoke with confidence, but I could see the hesitance in his movements, the slight twitch of his gauntlet covered hand.

“Sir, I believe this could be serious.” I said nervously, glancing to Florence and the others for backup, but they just stood silently, eyes glued to the grass floor. “Why do you think that?” He asked, obviously not caring either way.

“The message, it told like a fairy tale, they spoke of the blade like it was-”

“A blade?” General Jackson scoffed. “They are more foolish than I first thought. You are dismissed.” He waved us off, and while the others turned and walked steadily on, I stood fast.

“But, sir, I can not describe how they did, the power of such a weapon.”

“I have dismissed you, soldier. Do not defy me.” He said aggressively, not looking up from a map spread across the stump.

“But, sir-” The general rose from his chair in a rage, eyes blazing. “Captain, assist this soldier in finding the door.” I gawked at the general, trying to understand why he wouldn't listen.

“Please, sir, you must understand! Whatever this sword is, it’s dangerous!” He teleported in front of me faster than I could blink, leaving behind a soft red mist. “You have three words before I make you leave, dryad.” He spat at me, his gauntlet covered arm tensing and shaking, begging to be used, to unleash the power held back by will alone.

“Please-”

“Two.”

“Sir-”

“One.”

“Avallon!” I screamed, eyes squeezed shut as I prepared to be incinerated in a blaze of magical fire. I heard a small gasp from in front of me, the captain I assumed, as the steady breathing of General Jackson catching in his throat.

“What did you say?” I shook in fear, feeling his words slip through my body like some divine force. His voice was so powerful, like a demon, like a god.

“Avallon. The sword was forged in Avallon, w-with an ore called Uru, blessed by a witch, the Lady of the Lake. That’s what they wrote.” I opened my eyes, and almost closed them again. His eyes were swirling cauldrons of multi-colored light, his hair flowing in non-existent wind, the gauntlet inches from my face.

“What was… the name of the sword?” My body trembled, my legs like jelly, arms like limp branches of my tree. “They called it… something strange, I don't think it was in the proper Gaelic it was written in.” The general backed up, almost stumbled back, hitting the stump. His pupils were blown like a drug addict, like someone witnessing the fall of an empire.

“General?” The captain called, worry on her face. “The sword. Did they say anything else?” His voice was back to normal, though quivering like a scared child. I'd never seen anyone so powerful look so defeated, so vulnerable, all from a single message. “They said their greatest warrior would wield it, the ‘Descendant of Pendragon’, was the words they used.” His eyes flicked to mine, then to the floor, then back to mine.

“The daughter of Athena. I should've known.” He groaned, seemingly reeling in his fear little by little as he walked slowly to his chair. As he slumped into the seat, he stared at his gauntlet with, curiously, determined eyes. “I must finish my work.” The captain looked startled, like he had said instead, ‘I must feed the soldiers to the crows.’

“Sir! A direct attack on the Titans would be fatal to our ranks!”

“Fuck the ranks!” He bellowed, slamming his gauntlet on the stump, sending splinters of cracks running through the wood. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, breathing in deep, letting out a long suffering sigh of resignation.

“You, dryad. What is your name?”

“Birch, sir.” I said softly, not wanting to anger him anymore than he already was. “Birch.” He tried, nodding contently. “You work for me directly now. Florence, the fool, will be put down, as well as the rest of Troop 114. No one but us may know of the message.” I was, rightfully, shocked.

“Captain Guinevere, see to it that they are taken care of. I want a new Troop 114 by dusk tomorrow.” She nodded, walking out of the room and down the corridor. “Sir, why?” I asked, pleaded with him.

“We are at war, Birch, and the gods just showed us their cards. That encampment was six miles away from our second biggest stronghold, it was meant to fall, a ploy to scare us into action. The gods, throwing demigod lives away, delivered this message to us.” He was standing again, looking out the window behind him like the world wasn't ending.

“We may have four infinity stones, but if the Olympians are not bluffing, if they truly have Caliburn in their possession…” He trailed off, but the point was clear.

If the gods had this sword, this Excalibur they spoke of, then we were in serious trouble. I chose that moment to faint.


	8. The Stories We Tell Ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deviation from the story. An amalgam of background sources through news and podcasts alike...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!! Stay spooky kiddos :D

The Olympian Journal, 2012  
Article Seven, From Hero to Zero  
Lorraine Cumulus

The once great Hero of Olympus falls to a new low, even for the demigods. Two weeks ago, a group of five demigods had gone missing, to the horror of the gods, and had yet to be found until this morning. A naiad found the dead corpses of the demigods chained to the bottom of the lake at Camp Half-Blood, sword slashes across their throat in a brutal and fatal blow. When Dikaiosyne inspected the bodies, she matched the slices to the sword of one, Perseus Jackson. After a trial appearance this afternoon, the gods sentenced the 18-year-old demigod to a lifetime in Tartarus for his crimes against Olympus, and the demigod was officially titled as a traitor to Olympus and an enemy of the gods. Looks like this fish is fried. More of the story tomorrow, where we will be questioning several of his demigod friends who, “could never imagine him[Perseus] ever doing something like that.” This journalist, however, thinks this case is far from shut.

xxxx

The Olympus Journal, 2017  
Article 3, The Return of a Traitor  
Lorraine Cumulus

This week was one of horror as news emerged from the Underworld that a number of inmates in Tartarus had escaped in a mass jailbreak, including well known terrorist, Perseus Jackson. It has been five years since his incarceration, the gods forbidding any mention of the demigod, including the wiping of all his deeds in the two previous wars, the credit going to Annabeth Chase, the architect of Olympus, and Jason Grace, the son of Jupiter and ex-praetor of Camp Jupiter. Though no word of his movements have come, this journalist is more than interested in this fish out of water. Will there be a revolution? Will there be more acts of terrorism against the gods? Or is this all some fluke between Hades and Thanatos to prank the gods? Any way you cook it, I can safely say you'll be hearing from the Olympus Journal very soon on the matter.

xxxx

The Cloudy Blog: A Journalist Scorned  
Blog 32: On The Scene  
Published: April 27, 2017  
[AUDIO RECORDING]

“This is Lorraine Cumulus on the scene of yet another Percy Jackson sighting. The gods think they can silence the public, but this nymph won't take no for an answer. I'm standing here with local satyr, Florence Goldhoof. Florence, what exactly happened here?”

“Well, uh, miss Cumulus, the inn, Helpful Grove, was assaulted in the night by P-Percy Jackson. He, uh, t-tore off the innkeeper’s jaw and murdered a minor god.”

“Well, that certainly sounds like our demigod son of Poseidon. Do we have confirmation that Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, is in cahoots with the outlaw?”

“Uhm, I don't know anything about that.”

“More disappointing news then. For deeper intel, I will upload pictures of the crime scene to my blog later tonight. Until the next blog, this is Lorraine Cumulus signing off. Stay safe, Cloudians.”

[END RECORDING]

xxxx

The Cloudy Blog: A Journalist Scorned  
Blog 45: Kidnapped Nymph?  
Published: July 15, 2017  
[AUDIO RECORDING]

“This is Lorraine Cumulus at Camp Half-Blood in Long Island, New York. Just moments ago, a dryad was seen being carted away by on-the-run demigod, Nico di Angelo, and some hulking figure. Sources say that the figure was known terrorist, Percy Jackson, but others are far more skeptical of the situation. I am joined today by local demigod and cabin councilor, Annabeth Chase. Miss Chase, what are your thoughts on the recent sighting of this generation's greatest threat to our safety?”

“Well, miss Cumulus, I don't believe it was really Percy out there today.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He’s on the run. He has no reason to come back here. If Nico was here with some nymph, it was probably some random job for Lord Hades. He disappears like that all the time whenever his father calls for him.”

“Yes, I've spoken with Charon in Blog 39: Charon’s Thoughts, do you not keep up with the blog?”

“Uh, I...”

“Well either way, Charon has stated that Nico di Angelo hasn't entered the Underworld in several months, not since Percy Jackson arose from Tartarus to wreak havoc on the general population.”

“I don't think that’s what's happening right now.”

“Well, you can think how you'd like and I can blog about the truth. This has been Lorraine Cumulus, signing off. Stay safe, Cloudians.”

[END RECORDING]

xxxx

The Cloudy Blog: A Journalist Scorned  
Blog 103: War on the Horizon  
Published: November 25, 2017  
[AUDIO RECORDING]

“This is Lorraine Cumulus, on the scene once again of another brutal attack from what is now being referred to as the Command. Today, however, it is not a demigod scouting camp that's been attacked, but a mortal pub in the middle of nowhere. I am talking to you right now at the center of what was once a building, now nothing but rubble. Demigods were alerted nearby at the wave of divine energy from the location, stumbling upon the dilapidated structure full of rotting corpses. There seems to be no end to the madness and vicious brutality of Percy Jackson. Some sources say that a very powerful trade deal had gone down just moments before, the buyer escaping to this unknown bar to hide whatever item they had bargained for. Not for long, however, before the building was destroyed in what some mortals claim to be a bar fight gone atomic. I am truly worried for the coming days ahead. This is Lorraine Cumulus, signing off. Stay safe, Cloudians.”

[END RECORDING]

xxxx

The Cloudy Blog: A Journalist Scorned  
Blog 129: City of Secrets  
Published: March 30, 2018  
[LIVE AUDIO STREAMING]

“This is Lorraine Cumulus, possibly my last blog as I hid in this broom closet trying not to be seen or heard. I'm uploading this blog live, in hopes that if I do escape with my life I can have a good recording defending myself to anybody who demands proof. Alright, lemme get a bit closer.”

“...”

“Hang on, lemme just… snake the microphone under the door.”

“-s a terrorist! He needs to be stopped at any cost! I don't care how many demigods have to die, we cut off the head of this snake and the entire Command falls.”

“That was Zeus! Stay tuned, Cloudians.”

“Brother, you will not harm him! We can send him back to Tartarus to live out his sentence, and maybe rehabilitate him.”

“Look how well that worked last time, Poseidon! If we don't act now, he will only grow in power!”

“I agree with Father. Perseus has caused enough trouble already, our best strategy is to strike while he’s vulnerable.”

“Stuff it, bird brain! We will not kill my son! I barely let you send your children to try and take him down once, but not again!”

“Exactly! Look what happened to Ares, back when he only had one infinity stone! Now he has four, and we have the one thing that can put an end to his reign.”

“We can scare him into retreating. The fact that we even have Caliburn would send any immortal, foolish or not, reeling. Letting him know we have it will quell any thoughts of mass rebellion.”

“Are you suggesting we reveal our one trump card in a scare tactic? That's insane!”

“It will work, trust me brother.”

“...”

“It's quiet, hang on a second.”

“-ope you're right Poseidon. Send a message to our camp near the bigger fort.”

“Oh shoot, gotta go! Stay safe, Cloudians!”

[END STREAM]

xxxx

The Cloudian’s Guide, 2018  
Chapter 3, A Shrouded End  
By Stephanie Cumulus

What most people who were fans of my mother’s work don't know is how she died. After investigating rumors on Olympus, as shown in her most famous blog, City of Secrets, she was discovered by some nymphs with a brand loyalty to the gods. What happened next is shrouded in secrecy and conspiracy. Her body was found by mortal authorities later that week, completely burned of all divine energy in her body. I was brought in, unknown as a nymph, to confirm the identity and found myself sick at the sight of her. My mother, the famed blogger, killed for looking into something she shouldn’t have. It’s times like this where I think that I should've convinced her to stop while she was ahead, while she was still safe. Unfortunately, her nature got the best of her after word spread of some secret meeting on Olympus. What they spoke about cannot be found, not by the Olympians at least, because I've hidden the recording in her online site somewhere only true fans can find. What you do with the information is your own action, I'm just the daughter of a hero, true and proud, who won't let her mother’s last act as a journalist fade into nothing. As far as I'm concerned, Olympus can fall or rise victorious from the oncoming war against the Command. What matters to me is that my mother gets the honor and justice she deserves. I hope you all feel the same.


	9. Severed Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third side to a civil war...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Enjoy :)

There are two sides to every war. South against North, Allies versus Axis, France battling Britain for the thirtieth time. It’s a tale as old as time, but what’s overlooked is the subtle third party that always had an impact, a neighboring country, someone with a conflicting opinion to match your enemy, or perhaps a group of renegades who just wanted the war to end, not caring who won or lost. For the sake of our own story, we look toward the third option.

Our third party resides in a dusty yet affordable hotel in Valentine, Nebraska, just a few short miles from the wildlife refuge that shared the same location. The hotel has a rather short past, being owned by a small family for most of its life, home to many street rats and garbage bums, and yet the family allowed all people to stay, even if they didn't have payment upfront. Unfortunately for them, good morals don't pay bills. They declared bankruptcy in the fall of 2013, leaving the 33-year-old building in the care of the local bank. Like the act of a morally ambiguous god, the small bank was also shut down after several allegations of money laundering and dealings with the criminal class, most of which happened to be true. This put the hotel in a sort of legal purgatory of who owns what, nobody taking claim of it or wanting to throw money at the already rundown structure.

In 2014, the building had dropped off the map for most, becoming almost the backdrop in the bustling city that thrived where it couldn't. However, nowadays in a time of war and rebellion, the once forgotten hotel turned into the hideout of unlikely heroes in a time that demanded the presence of such people. There were thirty rooms and twice as many people, each doubling up with a friend, family, colleague, lover, whoever. A rather diverse clan of people, yet all with a connection to the mythical world of gods and monsters, heroes and villains, and, currently, Olympians and the Command. Nebraska was part of an unnamed middle ground for the warring sides, as well as Iowa, Minnesota, and Kansas. The Clover States they were called, lucky to be caught anywhere in either four leaves because then, you were finally safe from battle and the horrors of war.

The Hotel Ekecheiria, or Hotel E for those who didn't or refused to speak Ancient Greek, or just found the word really hard to say, like a writer who doesn't want to type Ekecheiria every time she references the hotel. In Hotel E, one could find a group of eight demigods torn between sides, should they follow a legendary hero who spoke such truths, or their parents who they've learned to follow from day one. You could also find six nymphs, three dryads, a naiad, an oread, and one nephelai, each one depending on the others to preserve some kind of wild and natural presence in the dilapidated hotel. Three clear-sighted mortals shared a single room, finding it increasingly difficult to live in the abnormal world they'd been cursed with, though were very thankful to see what others could not. A grouping of satyrs, moving in and out of the building, made up most of the other occupants, each one taking it upon themselves to protect the hotel from any harm, including scavenging for food and supplies to keep everyone happy and content until they found a more permanent solution.

Of course, with every third party of songless heroes, there is a leader who keeps them together, the proverbial glue. She currently was wandering the halls, keeping watch over her people, as she’d come to refer to them as. “Aspen.” A voice called from behind, drawing our leader’s attention. Bags under her eyes and bloodshot eyes spoke volumes of her mental condition, but heroes weren't built from steel, they were built from will and justice and righteousness.

“Yes, Stephanie?” She asked, tired beyond belief. The cloud nymph jogged over to her, carrying a bag of lettuce and celery in one arm. “New supplies came in. The satyrs say they've found a new grove, one full of good farming soil. They think if we can get some dryads and naiads out there, we can start an irrigation system and the beginnings of a farm, maybe even a plantation!” She was excited, as most would be. A light in a very dark tunnel, who wouldn't shine it as bright as they could for as long as possible.

“Sounds good. Send Ashley and Brooke, maybe Gabbro if anything needs to be carried.” Stephanie winced, wringing her hands as best as she could with the vegetation in her arm. “He's been having dreams again, bad ones. He frightens the guests.” Aspen sighed, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in her toga and jeans. “Whatever happened to him out there, it scared him real bad. I think you should talk to him.”

The dryad scoffed, walking back down the direction she came, only to be followed closely. “I know why he's so shaken, it’s why I purposefully ignore him.” The nephelai tried her best to convince her, waving her free arm around like she was batting off flies. “He's the only soldier to ever get out of the Command and live to tell the tale, and yet you wish not to here it. I know you have a past with Percy Jackson,” Aspen stuttered in her steps, continuing with a shaky breath. “But it doesn't matter anymore, he can't hurt you here!” Her perky voice was grating on Aspen’s ears, like whistles in her brain.

“He never hurt me. Never me, he wouldn't dare.” She whispered to herself, subconsciously running her fingers over the egg-shaped pendant that held her toga together. Stephanie chose to ignore the strange action, instead continuing her argument in earnest. “Look, as much as you don't like it, he could be useful.” She stepped in front of her, arms crossed like a mother hen. “My mother died trying to expose the truth about the gods. She was, is, a hero, always will be. I won't stand by and watch you ignore the war going on around us when we have a legitimate chance.” Her words were soft and insecure, vulnerable, and Aspen knew it.

Her eyes went to the pendent, and she heaved a shuddering sigh of defeat. “Fine. I'll talk to him.” Before the words had left her mouth, Stephanie was dragging her towards the common room where the oread spent most of his time sharpening swords and carving wooden stakes for a defensive fence.

As always, there he sat with a long hunting knife in hand, carving slivers of wood off a long pole. His shaggy hair was a mess of grey and black specks, like minerals, his skin underneath the shirt and pants a dark grey that contrasted against the lighter colors of his clothing. “Gabbro.” Aspen announced their presence, startling the oread so much he broke the pole in half with his strength.

“Damn. That was the last pole.” He sighed, turning to the other nymphs with dusty brown eyes, annoyance written on his face. “Somethin’ I can help you with? If it’s about the farm plans, I'm a bit busy here, as you can see, or well, saw.” He gestured to the splintered parts of his former project.

“Well, that's all well and good, but we are here on more personal matters.” Aspen said gently, sitting across from him on a plush armchair. Stephanie joined her, leaning against one side while still cradling the food in her hands. “Alright.” Gabbro looked skeptical, but set the hunting knife down and folded his hands in his lap, showing he was prepared to listen.

“I am aware you came from the Command, something you don't see very often, or at all, really.” His breath hitched, his stature ridged and scared. “So if I did? What are you gonna do, kick me out?” His tone was gruff and defiant, but his face was showed just how scared he was of being on his own again. “Of course not.” Aspen said, gently again as not to scare off the oread. “I just wanted to know some information. Do you remember anything important from your time there? Plans, camp placements, maybe even personal information?”

For a long time, Gabbro was silent and still, until he burst into rambunctious laughter, loud and rumbling like rocks falling down a hill. “Information? That's all you wanted? I was part of Troop 114, the original. Our whole purpose was gather information, memorise it, and burn the rest.” His laughter died down to a few chuckles and chortles, wiping a lone tear from his eye.

“That’s perfect!” Stephanie exclaimed, elbowing Aspen with a ‘See?’ expression on her face. “Alright, so you have what we need. What can you tell us?” Gabbro smirked, leaning back like a cliche villain. “What can’t I tell you, is the better question.” He stopped, in thought, as if deciding which piece of information was the juiciest.

“Well, I can pin up a map of the country with every location of camps I know about, including the big forts like Fort Allastor and Fort Eucleia. I have no idea where Fort Kratos is, that is top shelf information. I know the details of… most troops, their scouting patterns and fighting styles, as well as the location and names of each Captain.” Like a breeze of fresh summer air, the whole hotel seemed to perk up and brighten at the flush of information falling from his lips.

“All of that is common knowledge to most of the troops. I also know several of the Olympians plans and their camps, if you're interested in that as well.” His tone was joking, but eyes were quite serious, reminding Aspen of the side he chose to fight for before he came upon Hotel E.

“The biggest piece of information, however, is the one that almost got me killed. The reason I'm even here.” He gestured broadly to the interior, catching some eyes. “And, what would that be?” Aspen pushed, eager to learn as much as she could. “We had raided this demigod camp, easy work. Normal procedures, burn anything that could be burned, steal supplies, the gist. But what was different, abnormal really, was the letter.” The way he said letter was the same some people said ‘serial killer’ or ‘terrorist’ or ‘Zeus’.

“What letter?” Stephanie asked, intrigued in the unfolding of her master plan. “It was written in Gaelic, old European language. Only one guy in the troop, a dryad, could read the stuff, and even then it was only five or six lines. He memorised it and burned it, believing that's what General-, er, Percy Jackson, would want him to do.” Aspen flinched, not going unseen by the general viewer.

“When we reported our find, we were summoned to Fort Allastor, by Jackson himself. He was… overwhelming.” His voice had gone quiet, eyes wide and glazed, lost in thought. “The gauntlet…” Aspen unconsciously stroked her pendant, which glowed a soft yellow. Gabbro snapped out of his daze, clearing his throat.

“Birch told him what we had found, a letter talking about some sword he couldn't even pronounce, coming from Olympus itself. Well, after that we were dismissed, most of us turning to leave, but Birch stood determined, pleading with Jackson to understand that whatever this sword was it could spell out the end of his life. I stayed in the fort, behind one of the columns, to eavesdrop.” He sounded very proud of that, how he defied the demands of a commanding officer.

“Jackson threatened him, telling him to leave or he’d make him, until Birch said something, something that stopped him dead in his tracks. A name, I think.” He mumbled to himself, trying to come up with the word he so desperately needed, but gave up in favor of continuing. “Anyway, Jackson was effectively captivated by whatever he had said. He ordered Captain Guinevere to kill us, Troop 114, and told Birch he would be his personal soldier.”

As his story came to a close, the nymphs were gawking in disbelief. “How horrible!” Stephanie exclaimed in disgust. “How predictable.” Aspen grunted. “How standard.” Gabbro supplied. “Jackson has always been a cruel and powerful general, we all knew it, we just didn't care until he happened upon us.”

‘No truer words’, Aspen thought, suddenly having visions of burning trees and maniacal laughter, a crazed smile that belonged to someone she had once considered a lover. She shook the thoughts away, clenching her fists in anger and regret. “Is that all?” She asked, feeling more tired than usual.

“Well, I did catch the name of the sword. Jackson said it before I escaped through a side door. He called it ‘Caliburn’.” The room shook, like a mini-earthquake, the lights in the hotel flashing bright gold. Aspen cried out, clutching her pendant and ripping it from her body, letting it clatter to the ground. It was smoking, burning up from the inside until it melted onto the floor, revealing the baseball sized stone within, shining powerfully bright.

“What the hell is that?!” Stephanie screeched, jumping back like she saw a giant cockroach. “Is that what I think it is?” Gabbro asked, dark skin paling as he pointed a quivering finger at the glowing stone. Aspen held her toga together with one hand, the other one open to cool the burn it had been given when she ripped the pendant off to stop it from burning her skin.

“Yes, unfortunately, it is an infinity stone.” Murmurs erupted around them, the occupants talking in hushed but terrified whispers. Aspen picked up the stone, which no longer glowed, and slumped in her chair with a resigned sigh. “Its alright, it does that sometimes. If you even mention one of the other stones, it goes beserk.”

“So, does that mean this Cali-” Stephanie stopped, eyes on the stone. “This sword, it’s an infinity stone?”

“I don't think so.” Aspen answered honestly, turning the yellow stone over in her hands while thinking hard. “None of the others have names, and I'm pretty sure none of them are swords.” A bout of silence. “Do we know where the other stone is? The orange one?” Gabbro asked, looking to see if anyone could answer.

Aspen sucked in a breath, avoiding eye contact with anyone else. Her vision swam with images of cruel golden eyes, a smile that preached evil, the face of a friend who was a stranger now. “Nico di Angelo. He has it.”

Gabbro opened and closed his mouth, trying to say something, ask questions, but landing on nothing. “Finish his work.” He said finally, eyes wide. He stood abruptly, body practically shaking. “That's what he meant, he said he would finish his work, go to war against the Titans. He's trying to get the rest of the stones!”

He grasped Aspen by her shoulders, trying to convey the severity of the situation. “Who knows we are here?!” He question aggressively, eyes crazed. “No one! No one but the satyrs and a few mortals.” She answered, growing frightened of him.

“That's enough, enough for him to find us. All it takes is one person, just one, and he can pry the information with the snap of his fingers!” He was hysterical, releasing Aspen and fumbling for whatever he could find to use as a weapon.

It would prove futile, because at that moment, the front wall of Hotel E exploded into thousands of pieces of rubble, red sparks and shadows swaying throughout to move the pieces away from the hole. Emerging from the smoke, glowing gauntlet held high, was Percy Jackson, the intent to kill clear on his face.


	10. Breaking Down Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn how and why Percy is descending upon Hotel E...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, new chapter yay. I have plans in the works of a one-shot, because with all the dark and dreary this story is becoming, i wanted to make some fluffy nonesense, so look out for that soon :)

Perseus Jackson was, in some ways, an angel. He was merciful to those who chose the side of good, kind to the ones who did right by him, and benevolent to his people of the great and vast Command. Not to mention how angelic he looked, bronze skin and ebony hair, eyes fierce and gorgeous, a body like a Greek god.

However, there were also ways he could be seen as a demon. In battle, for instance, when he ripped through demigods and monsters alike, smile wide across his face with sick joy. Even when taking prisoners, he took personal care in extracting every small and minute detail from the offender, in the most painful way he could imagine. This was one of those times, unfortunately for a son of Ares.

Fort Kratos was less a fort and more a castle, gargantuan and harrowing in appearance. The building was surrounded by forty-foot walls that covered a full three hundred foot perimeter, tens of soldiers patrolling at all hours of the day and night, armed to the teeth with silvered arrows and Celestial Bronze swords. The courtyard was nothing but a barren wasteland of shrapnel mines and pit traps, each adorned with godly metal that would rip through flesh and bone like bullets, spikes large and sharp enough to pierce the skull of anyone foolish enough to try and sneak into the fort. The castle itself was about eighty feet tall, looming high above the walls like the shadow of death himself. The Stygian Iron walls were made of eight-inch thick blocks, impregnable to the average demigod without a burst of awesome divine energy.

The innards of the castle were less than a home, dark and desolate, filled with soldiers of the highest skill caliber and trust, sworn to secrecy. The chambers were for bunks and arsenals only, there was no cafetorium or mess hall, no baths or kitchen, nothing that would be found in a livable place. The throne room was deep in the center of the castle, a circular room that only one man was allowed to enter, which was actually rather rare, but happened nonetheless.

Under the throne itself, a stone chair large enough for a bear to sit in, there was a small dungeon, just enough for a couple of prisoners, given that Perseus Jackson wasn't one to take hostages, because he didn't need to. Until now, at least, which brings us up to pace with current events.

Screams echoed in the small, thin halls of the dungeon, originating from John Carpenter, son of Ares and First Sergeant of the Camp Half-Blood Defense Front, notable by the patches on his jacket that hung on the rack adjacent to the cell, ‘HBDF’ and the three arched lines on top and bottom with a single star in between.

Percy was watching carefully as the soldier writhed in pain under his ministrations, eyes alit with sick fascination. “John Carpenter, you certainly are resilient, I'll give you that.” He sniffed, pulling the electric cattle prod back with reluctance. “But you'll give in at some point, they always do.” The hanging demigod coughed up blood, sinking as low as he could with his wrists chained to the ceiling.

“I will… never give in!” He declared, rather pathetically. Percy stood, flexing his right hand absentmindedly, missing the cool feel and soft hum of the gauntlet already. “You must be under some sort of assumption that I need you to confess everything you know, but this is far from the truth. With the wave of my hand, I can extract that information from you. This,” He gestured vaguely to the whole room, chuckling darkly. “This is just fun.”

John didn't make any noise or movement to indicate he was listening, so Percy continued as planned. “Well, we can cross electrocution off our bucket list then. Looks like we've already gone through blunt force, burning, and slicing. My, how time flies when we’re having such fun.” He walked casually to his small chair and sat with grace, hand resting on the chains that held his captive suspended in the air.

With swift and nimble fingers, he let the chains slide slowly up, letting the son of Ares hang just in front of him, feet scraping against the ground. “What should we do next, hm? Skinning? Too bloody for my taste. Waterboarding? Nah, too cliche. Maybe some good old fashion psychological torture? I'm sure I could dig into those memories and find something to, heh, pick you apart with.” The grin on his face was malicious and sharp, like a deadly blade.

“You see, John Carpenter, I am having fun, but soon enough I'll get bored and just have to kill you after extracting the information I need. Of course, if you tell me now, I won't have to continue playing, I can just kill you.” John made a small sound, like an animal being trapped in a too tight grip. “Sorry, I'm a bit blunt with my intentions. Then again, if you thought you would ever leave this building alive, you truly are mad!” Percy laughed long and hard, almost choking on laughter.

John could only stare, tears slipping down his face as he looked into the eyes of a psychopath. “Well, either way,” Percy continue after calming down. “I guess psychological is the best bet.” The demigod lunged suddenly, grasping John’s head in his right hand, his suddenly gauntlet covered hand. The purple and green gems glowed intensely in the dark room. “Detholiad cof.” John’s eyes went white, tinted green, as the memories he had were extracted slowly from his head and into Percy’s. “Oh my, you do indeed have some interesting memories here, Sergeant.” He practically giggled with glee.

The torturer removed his hand, gauntlet fading away once again, John’s eyes clearing to show fear. “So, you truly believe they will come save you?” Percy stood again, walking slowly around John. “You think, what, some lowly First Sergeant is important enough to, one, find the famed Fort Kratos, and then two, invade it? The most heavily defended building in the world, and you believe in your small, ignorant mind that they would come in here for you?”

Percy jammed two hard fingers into a particularly deep scar on his back, not one form the war, one form his personal life. “You weren't even worth it to your own mother, who watched as you were beat every day by your stepfather. She could see the worthless, pitiful sack of shit you would become.”

Silently, he adorned his gauntlet once more, caressing the demigod’s head to make him relive the violent and harsh beatings he had received as a child, the blue stone glowing softly. “I mean, seriously Johnny, you are pathetic. Your own troops knew it too, hating you, blaming you right now for the death of your squad. Tsk, I'd hate to be you.”

Percy smiled, removing the hand. “Still, recognition from the gods, from your father, would be worth it all. Well, I hate to break it to you Johnny, but Ares already forgot about you. You're as good as dead, might as well give up and give in.” John was sobbing quietly, eyes squeezed shut and muscles tense. Percy frowned, annoyed, and decided to put one final touch to it.

“C’mon soldier, just give up the information. I swear, it'll go to good use.” The gruff female voice slid past his mouth, so familiar it pried at Percy’s emotions. John jerked up, eyes wide and bloodshot.

“General la Rue? H-How did you get here?” The faux daughter of Ares smirked, something off in her eyes. “I came on a plea deal. That bastard Jackson said he’ll let you go, as long as you give up the information. It'll be alright soldier, we may lose this battle, but the war will be ours.” John smiled, joyous tears spilling beside his terrified and dried tears of old.

“Thank you general, I knew someone would come.” He swallowed, eyes turning to the man in the corner, watching intently. “Our troop positions are closing in around Othrys in what we predict to be a way to cut off all ties to the Titans, severing any alliance they may have with the Command. Our scouts reported sightings of camps full of enemies off the West Coast, so we've begun assigning some people there.” Clarisse, or Percy’s visage of her, nodded softly.

“What about the bigger stuff. He needs everything soldier.” John nodded, licking his lips in an effort to keep them moist. “Olympus has cut most communication, keeping silent, but ever since that blog went out a couple months ago, rumors have been spreading of a weapon being hidden in Olympus. I heard it was some kind of blade, but I'm not sure.”

He breathed in, deep, feeling almost sick for spilling so much of the secrets he had overheard. “Also, we found Hotel Ekecheiria. It’s in northern Nebraska, next to some wildlife park.” Clarisse smiled wickedly. ‘Two for the price of one’, Percy thought.

“The intel said to burn the hotel down, and leave no survivors. A bit harsh, but we learned to take these kind of orders in stride.” Now, Clarisse was frowning, downright sneering at John. “What? What kind of order is that?” She demanded, fisting her jeans roughly.

“Your orders, general.” John said, blinking up in thought, before realization dawned on him and he began to sob furiously. “I should've fucking known!” He screamed, pulling against the chains as Percy evaporated his holographic image with a plastered smile.

“Of course you should've, you were just too stupid to see.” He was done with playtime, he had work to do.

“Now, if you excuse me, I have a hotel of insurgents to save from your boss.” John looked up confused, yet still angrily pulling on the chains. “Why the hell would you do that?” Percy wasted no time grabbing his chin, forcing his face forward. “Because the only person I care about is in that hotel.”

He stood, walking behind the son of Ares, and wrapped both arms under his chin. “Thank you, John Carpenter, your information will go to good use I promise.” With that final word, he pulled his arms upward with all his strength, until finally John’s neck muscles gave way and his head was thrown from his body into the back of the cell.

Blood spurted from the headless neck, the putrid stench filling the small space rapidly. The taste of copper filled Percy’s mouth, though he had been around enough dead bodies and enough headless, spurting corpses to not gag at the feeling. Hot, sticky crimson coated the walls and himself, thick with clots and definitely staining anything it touched a permanent red.

Percy allowed the gauntlet to appear, wiping blood off his face before snapping his fingers, cleaning himself instantly. “Did you have to kill him?” A deep voice questioned, from within the gauntlet.

The amethyst gem glowed, before purple mist billowed out of it, condensing to form the smokey image of a spirit with a large beard and pale white skin, red lines painted down his skin from the top of his bald head all the way down his broad and muscular chest, which his tree trunk arms were crossed over.

“Of course. I'd expect you to understand the cost of war the most.” The spirit grunted, floating closer to the decapitated body. “He didn't have to die, though. You have that choice, to take the information and leave him, mind wiped of this world, to wander the world alone.”

Percy glared, more at the dead body than the ghost. “That's stupid.”

“That's mercy. You used to have it, when we met.”

Percy scoffed, pushing the corpse out of his way to sit in his now drenched chair. “When we met, I was scared and innocent, trapped in a literal hellscape. I recall you being militaristic and stern in your training as well, telling me when it came to the gods, all measures must be taken.” The spirit grunted again, eyes narrowing.

“I meant in fighting them, not killing their children for no reason than sick joy. If you really want to kill the gods, you'll give up your petty feud with their children.”

Percy growled animalistically. “Their blood lives on in them. To kill the gods is to cut off their whole lineage, no half-blood is to be spared.”

“Does that include you?” the phantom asked, brow raised. Percy averted his eyes to the decapitated demigod in front of him. “If it comes to that. Fortunately, I have a plan for that.” The demigod stood with a sigh, clenching his fist and sucking the purple phantom back into the gauntlet.

“Sorry Kratos, I know you mean well.” He strode out of the cell with his head held high, leaving the corpse to be cleaned up later. For now, he had work to do.

Once Percy had locked the door to the cell block, he summoned red mist to his side, teleporting to his next location: the armory. Now, one might wonder why he would need to be in the armory given the rather powerful gauntlet currently on his arm. The downside to such a wonderfully powerful instrument of death and destruction is the drawbacks. The gauntlet fed off of the demigod, draining his very essence to keep itself powered until it has all six stone. So, to satiate the hunger the weapon demanded and keep himself alive, Percy very rarely used the gauntlet in battle, preferring to use the various weapons in his arsenal.

Opening the door that connected to his own personal armory, Percy smiled at the racks of powerful weapons and armor, magical items and potions, and other such things that could be used expertly by the demigod. Percy looked over the room, scanning for what he would use today.

A wand that evaporated the blood of any mortal? Wouldn’t be any good in the upcoming fight. He locked eyes with a particularly difficult item to find. A ring forged deep in a volcano, used to boost the power of the user tenfold and grant unique abilities, only hindered by the wearer’s imagination. Yes, Percy has a knack for rare and magical items, but this one has been hell to find.

Given that, he decided not to use it here, didn’t want someone to try and grab it, for Percy knew the drawing effect of the ring. He skimmed the rest of the racks, ticking off the things he would or could not use, such as an Elven vorpal sword, a Smart Disk from a distant planet, a blue guarded sword from another plane of existence with elves and goblins, the Sword of Omens, and finally, the winner here, an ancient Japanese blade known only as Kusanagi.

Percy lifted the blade, it’s arched handle cap keeping the blade in his hand even when he let it go slack in his hand. It hummed with an ancient energy, a magic that courses through each gram of steel.

Percy smiled down at the blade, eyes alit with promises of pain and horrors to be laid down on whoever stood in his way.


	11. Battle Royale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the present, the interactions aren’t the only things explosive...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, guess whose been sick for a whole week lol. I’m sorry for not getting this chapter out sooner, but here it is. Look out for a one-shot soon.

When the smoke has cleared and the rubble settled, it was a long, terrifying staring match between the leader of the Command, Percy Jackson, and the caretaker of Hotel E, Aspen. The various creatures that swelled in the hotel were both frightened and curious, waiting for someone to make a move.

“I have no time for petty words and semantics. An invasion is on its way, the gods have sent soldiers to tear down the hotel and kill its inhabitants. I am here to… halter that.” The voice of the general was cold and steely, like creeping frost across shattered glass. Aspen, if she was surprised, didn’t show any emotion at his words.

“Who says we need your help?” Her words are meant to bite, to strike Percy like a whip. He swallows past the barb, glaring slightly around the room. The people here could hold their own against a few dozen soldiers, but the demigod knew better.

Olympus wanted to obliterate the hotel, and that kind of order doesn’t go past many ears without someone spilling their guts. Fortunately, it was literally for Percy. They would be sending out the best to counteract whatever defense would be ready for them.

“I don’t think you quite understand.” He steps through the rubble, letting himself into the building. The inhabitants shifted uncomfortably, itching to either run or fight. “Olympus knows you will retaliate, and given the limited knowledge anyone has of this place, they aren’t willing to risk another loss.”

The truth in his tone was clear, yet so was his barely concealed boredom of the situation. Aspen, however, knew better, as her smirk showed. She knew he’d do just about anything to save the people here, because if he didn’t she would be heartbroken, and somewhere deep in the pit of his black heart he still felt something for her.

“Very well. We will prepare for a battle, but you will be frontlining to keep my people safe.” He grunted, hands flexing instinctively. With a few choice words held back with effort, Percy threw himself down into a chair, scaring off a couple nymphs. He brought out his sword, Kusanagi, and began running his hand across its smooth blade, feeling the soft thrum of energy beneath its steel.

Aspen was darting right and left, giving out commands and orders to the various people in the area. Percy had to hand it to her, they were surprisingly prepared for an invasion. Pikes were being set up at the front of the hotel, wooden cudgels and clubs were passed out. The demigod watched, more curious than fascinated, as Hotel E prepared for war.

“I’m impressed.” He said suddenly. “You are more prepared than I’d thought a cesspool of nymphs and satyrs would be.”

Aspen glowered, passing out another club. “We are trained more than you know, Perseus.” Try as he might, he still flinched lightly at her use of his proper name. Percy looked on her, a cold and desperate longing in his eyes. She looked so beautiful, ethereal, as gorgeous as the last time he’d seen her. He closed his eyes tight, forcing his rising emotions down. A calm wave of apathy flowed down his face, and he was back to business.

First, he sent a sliver of energy out to detect any divine presences in a four mile radius. Then, he adorned his beloved gauntlet, clenched his fist, and began preparing his own defenses. The people around could only stare in awe as his mesmerizing gauntlet glew with blue and red light, until wisps of mist with the same color spread across the front wall, shaping and fixing the broken wall.

He clenched his fist again, turning the mist blue and purple. Once he drew the smoke back in, there were runes across the surface of everything it touched. “No one touch the glowing runes.” He said simply, sending the gauntlet away with the flex of his hand.

The preparations went off without a hitch, and soon the entire hotel was waiting with bated breath, until Percy’s energy detector buzzed in his mind.

“We’ve got company, four miles out.” Aspen came forward, a Roman pila made of oak wood in her hand.

“How many?”

“Hard to tell. At least twenty, most likely more. And…” he trailed off, sucking in a breath. “And an Olympian.”

Aspen swore heavily, sweat sliding down her skin like quicksilver. “Which one?” Percy just shrugged, drawing back his energy to keep as much in him as possible.

He didn’t think they would send a god, much less an Olympian. Things were changed, greatly, and Percy was seriously considering abandoning the hotel, capturing Aspen, and leaving before they even showed up. Too late, however, because there was a sudden explosion of energy of energy that ripped through the entire front wall of the hotel.

Standing there, powerful and mighty, was probably the worst god that could’ve arrived. Tall for a goddess, auburn hair pulled back into a tight bun, silver eyes burning with confidence and bravado, but a hidden layer of uneasiness.

Without a single thought, Percy disappeared in a blink of red mist. Aspen stared at the spot he had occupied, flabbergast and confused, before scowling. Of course he’d leave when the going got tough. Fine then, she’d have to take charge.

“Hotel E! Form blockade!” She shouted, lifting her pila to a prefered fighting stance. The people gathered in front, forming a wall. From behind Artemis, about twenty girls in silver parkas with bows came forward into an arc of silver tipped arrows.

“Satyrs and nymphs, stand down and you will be taken prisoner. If you attempt to fight you will be put down.” Aspen held back a feral growl. ‘Put down’, as if they were some dogs that had been causing too many problems. Bugs beneath the almighty Zeus, and Artemis was here to terminate those who didn’t leave willingly.

“We shall not stand down. This is our home.” She said steely. Her voice, fortunately, didn’t waver, though she felt faint just talking to the goddess.

Artemis cocked an eyebrow, unsheathing one of her daggers almost unnoticeably. “Then you leave me with the choice I didn’t want to follow through on.”

“You still don’t have to.” Aspen said, pleaded. Artemis had to avert her eyes, not able to look into the desperate and hopeless eyes of someone she had promised to put down.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, almost inaudibly. The hunters around her took that as the sign to fire, but as they let go of the strings, as the arrows flew forward, the purple ruins on the ground glew and the arrows began to change. Some turned into crows, some rubber straws, some even becoming marital aids.

From behind the line of hunters, Percy appeared, sword held high, and began his work. It took serious skill and almost every ounce of divine energy to complete his first move, the calculations so fine and precise that he needed everything to be perfect.

He started on the left, decapitated the first hunter, then came back down to slice the next one straight down the middle. His body moved like fluid, weaving around bodies and striking with lethality and precision. It took less than three seconds for the entire line of hunters to be dealt with, barely a workout for Percy, but he couldn’t complain that much.

The real fight began when Artemis stabbed backward at him without looking, swiveling quickly after to bring her second blade across in a downward slash meant to slice open his chest. Percy dodged back from the initial stab, bringing up Kusanagi to block the second with effort.

It seemed she learnt her lesson last time they fought, and would be sticking to close combat. Percy smirked, twisting his sword out of the blade lock before thrusting it forward experimentally. His prowess in swordplay had not waned the slightest since the war began, only increasing with time and experience.

Artemis smacked the blade away with the flat of her own knife, sending it just off enough to miss. She had the years, the strength and speed, and the boutless energy that could last for days. Percy had to be smart, he couldn’t keep up a fight with an Olympian for long, especially one so profoundly gifted in combat.

Artemis darted forward, bringing one knife down, the other staying at her side ready to penetrate any weakness. Percy leapt backward an inch, readying his sword for a counter attack. He came forward, Kusanagi held diagonally to the ground, and feigned a swing to the right. Praying to whatever god still cares to listen, he twisted away from Artemis, bring his sword overhead to cut down fast and strong.

Not one to be fooled, she danced out of the way of the strike, however not fast enough to avoid a small cut across her thigh. Ichor dripped to the floor, the very sight of it fueling the fire that raged in Percy’s veins. Unfortunately, the same effect sprung within the goddess said ichor cane from.

She sprang forward with the grace and swiftness of a huntress, blades only flashes of deadly silver. Percy blocked, dodged, and weaved where he could, almost always with consequence that began to show from the crimson blossoming across his body. Staying on the defensive, the demigod tried to plan out a strategy, something to give him more of an edge, but it was hard to think with the flurry of attacks coming his way.

Artemis was a beast, literally at some points when she shifted into a large brown bear that batted him across the room. He landed in a heap amongst the bricks, coughing up a clot of blood and groaning.

“Surrender, Jackson. You can’t hope to defeat me in battle.” Percy smirked up from his pile of bricks, blood-stained teeth shining. “I beat you last time, if you recall.” Artemis growled, pulling her bow from thin air and nocking an arrow. “That was the spawn of Hades, and his devilish tricks.”

She pressed her foot against his chest when he tried to sit up, definitely cracking a few ribs in the process. “I don’t see any help for you now. Today, the war is won.” She aimed the arrow between his eyes, pulling with a generous amount of strength, and released.

The moment the arrow flew from her grasp, it morphed from a long, silver tipped projectile into a four-inch pool noodle that bounced off Percy’s head harmlessly.

“Wha-?” Artemis was shocked and confused, just what he was looking for when he plunged his sword into her abdomen, piercing her right lung and coming out her back. “Should’ve checked where we were, m’lady.” He said mockingly, pushing her foot off as she collapsed onto the floor.

He picked up one of the bricks, brushing off the thin layer of dust that shielded the glowing rune beneath. “You’ve lost, and Olympus loses its best warrior for an unknown amount of time, though I’m sure it will be a good while.” Artemis spluttered out a choking, rasping cough of golden blood, hands grasping at the sword in his gut, only to have them brushed away by her attacker.

“Here, let me.” He yanked the blade free without care, allowing ichor to flood into her punctured lung. Percy watched in sick glee as she drowned in her own blood, wiping off the stained blade on her coat.

“With you out of the way, my plans can come to fruition. Thank Zeus for sending you, I’m sure you’ll both be seeing each other very soon.” With that final word, he flicked his wrist, slicing her throat cleanly, effectively silencing her as he walked away.

The eyes of everyone in Hotel E were on him as he sheathed his sword, mostly in fear though some looked on thankful for his help. He stumbled into place next to Aspen, looking her deep in the eyes. She cleared her throat, liking away from him.

“Th-thank you, I appreciate the help.” Percy grunted, before reaching out with his palm upturned, waiting expectantly. For a moment, nothing happened, until Aspen slowly slid a round item covered in thin cloth into his hand.

It buzzed and hummed at the contact, growing hot once he summoned the gauntlet to his hand. The gem jumped from his open hand and attached itself at the center socket, it’s size not able to fit anywhere else.

“Keep out of trouble.” He murmured quietly to her, eyes troubled at his victory. Aspen tried to speak, say anything, but she was choking on an emotion that had long left her. His eyes were the same pools of green she fell for, the same fondness was there, but deep scars of hate and darkness marred the beauty there.

She turned away, squeezing her eyes closed. “Alright people. Reconstruction starts now.” She went off through the lobby, directing occupants, while Percy stood silently.

He began a small trek to the front of the hotel, only stopping to glance at an oread staring at him from across the room. He remembered this one, a recently dismantled group, but for a reason he couldn’t recall.

He continued on, waiting until he crossed the broken walls and dead bodies to disappear in a plume of red smoke.


End file.
